Progress
by munchkinsRattacking
Summary: Jim and Spock were meant to be friends - good friends, even. Then why is it so hard?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story. Nada. Except the idea maybe.

Warning: It's probably going to be slash. I haven't really made up my mind yet, but the possibility/probability is there. It would be K/S.

Chapter 1

It wasn't until recently that Jim fully understood why he wasn't a fan of psychics or palm readers or fortune tellers. They all existed for one reason: to tell Jim about the future. Future loves, future adventures, future failures...everything that he wouldn't want to know about what was going to happen to him. And while Jim didn't put a whole lot of faith into the people who were part of these professions, he still didn't want to risk a visit and coming away with disillusioned ideas about what should be. After all, they couldn't be wrong all the time. It was simply better not to chance it.

Jim spent a lot of time avoiding these kind of people, and had been very successful at it too. Until recently, anyways. How was he supposed to know that he would be saved by someone who was not only capable of telling him about future occurrences, but was from the future itself? How was he supposed to know that a mind meld would tell him more than he would ever want to know about an alternate reality that wasn't completely impossible in his reality? How was he supposed to know that conversing with the older Spock would lead him to believe that he should have a close friendship with the younger Spock?

Jim groaned to himself softly, sitting in his room with a book in his lap. He had been attempting to read for the better part of the last hour, but found that it was a harder task than he had originally anticipated. He kept getting distracted by his own thoughts. Or, at least he thought they were his thoughts. After the mental invasion he experienced, he wasn't ever one hundred percent sure about what was happening in his mind.

He had thought things were going to change after he and Spock had worked together on defeating Nero and the _Narada_. After all, nothing brings people closer together than a near death experience and the teamwork that helps save the world. But apparently Spock had missed that memo. Or had at least gotten a different one. Jim had gotten his hopes up after Spock had expressed his interest in being Jim's first officer. Spock took Jim's rank seriously, though, and refused to address him in an informal manner, even when they were alone, which was rare. They almost only associated when they were both on duty. And Jim wasn't sure what kind of friendship could be formed on purely formal, work-oriented groundwork.

Jim couldn't help but feel like he wouldn't be so bothered about it if he had no idea that they were supposed to be friends. And not just friends, but close friends. If he hadn't known, then he wouldn't have expected them to be friends, and sure, while he might not have been thrilled with the tension that still existed between them, he wouldn't have any idea about what it should be and he definitely wouldn't be bothered by what it wasn't. The fact that, at one point in time, in a different reality, Spock and Jim had been close made Jim want that connection more than he had ever wanted any other relationship ever in his entire life. The relationship that the older Spock (_Spock Prime, _Jim reminded himself) had told him about seemed so elusive right now that it only made him want it more. After all, Jim always enjoyed a challenge.

But, for some reason, Jim didn't feel like it should be such a challenge. The ease and familiarity that had existed between him and Spock Prime had been apparent, which led Jim to believe that it should inherently be there with his Spock. But it was like Spock didn't even want to try.

Jim sighed and stood up, giving up his illusion of reading. He put the book back on the bookcase and looked around his room. He really should clean up. It wasn't like the room was trashed, but there was enough clutter that made it painfully obvious that Jim wasn't much of a cleaner. Oh well. It added character. _But no one likes a dirty character,_ Jim thought, acknowledging that his analogy didn't really make any sense as he started to tidy his room. Which amounted to him picking an object up and wondering where to put it before setting it back down where it had been before, possibly a little bit straighter than it had been before.

But his thoughts lingered on his first officer._ I have, and always shall be, your friend_. Yeah right. The rate things were going now, they'd be lucky if they became close acquaintances. Maybe Spock Prime really hadn't known what he was talking about. Maybe it simply wasn't possible for him and Spock to be good friends in this reality. After all, that was a different time, with different circumstances and different histories. Which meant that it was probable that there would be different futures as well. So maybe it just wasn't meant to be in this time line, and Jim would just have to accept that.

But he couldn't. He was a firm believer in self-fulfilling prophesies and he couldn't help but feel like this was one of them. He just had to find a way to appeal to the half-Vulcan and logically convince him that friendship between them was the way to go. But that was the problem. Friendship wasn't always logical. In fact, with Jim, it usually wasn't. And at that moment, he simply had no logical arguments about how a friendship between Jim and Spock would be mutually beneficial.

Ugh. He was captain of the _Enterprise_, one of the youngest captain's ever on one of the most desired ships! He shouldn't have to worry about this kind of stuff. He was James T. Kirk for God's sake! People lined up to be his friend. They practically begged! Okay...maybe not, but in a perfect universe, that's how it should have been. It certainly would've made things easier.

Although, to be fair, he kind of owed his sudden rise in rank to Spock. If it hadn't been for his older self, it was quite possible that Jim would still be on Delta Vega and Earth would have been destroyed and Nero would probably still be roaming the galaxy leaving a trail of destruction behind him. No, he owed Spock a lot. Hell, the entire federation owed Spock.

A sudden, horrifying thought struck Jim. Had he ever apologized to Spock? Although it wasn't usually in his nature to apologize, he couldn't help but feel like there were some things that just required an apology out of common human decency. And what had transpired between them on the bridge definitely fell into that category. Damn. He had forgotten all about that after all the excitement of defeating Nero, being raised to captain status, and then going on several missions. But he needed to apologize. Maybe that was what was standing in between them and friendship.

Jim almost laughed at how stupid he could be. Of course! There had been a huge elephant in the room and he had completely missed it. Deep down, he knew that it would take more than just an apology to form a bond between them, but it was definitely a start, and seeing as he hadn't had any kind of starting point before now, he was going to call it progress. And there was no time like the present to make progress. Now if only he knew where Spock was...or he could call him.

But where was his comm unit? Oh, wait, he'd seen it when he was "straightening" the papers on his desk. Which meant it was under...no, maybe he'd thrown it in a drawer? No, oh there it was, on his bed. Jim briefly wondered how it had gotten there, but shook it off. He wasn't known for his organized cleaning efforts.

"Captain Kirk to Spock," he said and waited for a response. He wouldn't have been surprised if he hadn't gotten one. They were, after all, off duty. If he were Spock, he probably would have ignored it and continued doing whatever it is Vulcans do for fun.

"Spock here," came the monotone voice of his first officer moments later. Jim couldn't help but smile at how efficient he was. They really did make a pretty fantastic team. If only he could get Spock to see it.

"State your location," Jim said, hoping that Spock wouldn't think that this call was purely business related. He probably shouldn't have sounded so formal in addressing him.

"Observation deck."

Jim smiled again. That was the perfect place to have a conversation. It invited conversation without being too personal yet also offered the comfort of the stars, which, in a contradictory manner, also suggested personal conversations. "Okay, stay where you are," Jim said, already heading out the door to meet with his first officer. "I will be there in a moment."

He cut off the conversation before Spock could reply and Jim could practically see his eyebrow raised in his trademark surprised/confused expression. Despite the fact that their friendship wasn't exactly flourishing, Jim was proud that he was starting to be able to recognize the half-Vulcan's various emotions through his body language and generally expressive eyes. Jim frowned slightly, _expressive eyes_? Where had that come from? He shook it off and entered the lift that would take him to the observation deck.

It was in the lift that Jim realized that he really had no idea what he was going to say to Spock. He was a firm believer in letting bygones be bygones. So dredging through past wrongdoings was definitely going to be interesting and more difficult than he had originally foreseen. All too soon, the door slid open, leaving Jim with half-formed thoughts and nerves that he hadn't known existed until right then.

Just like Spock had said, Jim found him waiting on the observation deck. Not that Jim hadn't believed him, but he wouldn't have been surprised if he had left, finding the prospect of conversation dissatisfying. Then again, Spock didn't like disobeying orders either, even if it hadn't really been an order. It had probably sounded like one to him though.

He took in his first officer's appearance for a moment, just standing by the door. He was standing stiff and straight, his hands clenched behind his back and was still in his blue uniform. It was then that Jim realized that he had only ever seen Spock in his uniform before. Did Spock even own something for casual wear? Jim shook his head. He had to stop the stall tactics and just go apologize. Blunt, straightforward...to the point. Either way, he had to do something other than just stand there in a stupor. There was no doubt that Spock was aware of his presence, as his pointy ears were insanely perceptive to sound.

Just go apologize. Do it. I'm sorry. It's not that hard.

"Nice night we're having," Jim said instead, stepping forward to stand next to Spock. He had to resist the urge to facepalm. Nice night? Really?

Spock merely inclined his head to acknowledge the statement, still staring out the window. "You requested my presence, Captain?"

"Jim," he reminded him absently. One of these days Spock would call him by his first name, damn it. "I just wanted you to know that I didn't mean it." Great. Could he have been any more cryptic?

Spock turned to look at him, for once making things slightly easier. "I am uncertain as to what you are referring to," he said, making Jim internally groan. Scratch that, Spock never made things easier.

"I'm sorry," he tried again, deciding to just come straight out with the apology. "About your mom, your home, your people. It shouldn't have happened, and I shouldn't have said it. I didn't mean it. I know that you care and feel and shit." Well, he never claimed to be eloquent. Jim carefully brought his hand up to gently rest on Spock's shoulder. He stiffened under the touch, but it was the only way that Jim knew how to communicate his sincere regret. "I know how much you loved your mom...I'm sure she was a wonderful lady."

Spock shifted his dark, blank eyes away and subtly turned back to face the window again. Jim withdrew his hand quickly, taking the move for a "fuck off". He backed away slightly, ready to go back to his room to dwell over this newest failed attempt at friendship.

Spock's voice stopped him before he got more than two steps though. "May I ask a question of you, Captain?"

"Jim," he corrected, "And sure, anything."

Spock ignored him and instead asked, "Why?"

Jim was floored. Why? Why what? Why apologize? Why did he say it in the first place? Why was being captain so important to him that he would humiliate Spock and break through his defense mechanisms? All of a sudden he felt like he was thrust back into one of his philosophy classes at the academy. There had never an answer to the question 'why' in class and Jim had a feeling that there wasn't one now either.

Spock turned to look at him, his eyebrow raised in an expression that clearly said 'I'm waiting'.

"Because...I felt bad?" Jim hated how uncertain he sounded. Well, it wasn't his fault! That was a ridiculous question to begin with.

Spock gave him a look that he was pretty sure was equivalent to a Vulcan's exasperated smirk. "Why now?" he clarified.

Oh. Good question. 'Because I felt like it' was probably an inadequate answer to a Vulcan because there wasn't an ounce of logic behind it. Jim tore his gaze away from Spock's face and began picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of his uniform. He needed to stop running into things and catching his sleeve on sharp corners if he didn't want to have to learn how to patch up holes...wait!

"It's like when you have a small rip in a shirt," Jim exclaimed, excited for his brilliant analogy. Up went Spock's eyebrow in his trademark look of confusion, although Jim suspected that there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as well. "No, it makes sense! Okay, so you can leave the rip unattended, but it'll only get worse. But that doesn't mean that you fix it immediately, though because at first you ignore it and hope it'll go away or fix itself. But it doesn't, so you end up fixing it eventually before you let it get to an irreparable state!" Only after he began did he realize that this probably wouldn't apply to his Vulcan first. And it wasn't until he got to the end when he realized that it sounded a lot better in his head. Jim looked at Spock with a small smile on his face. "There was a hole between us and it wasn't going away." Jim shrugged, "I guess I just got tired of having to step around the hole to get to you."

Spock stared at him for a few moments, incomprehension dancing in his eyes. Well, he never claimed to be rational, either. However, a response - any response - would be more than welcome. An 'I forgive you' would be ideal, but the silence was so deafening that Jim was willing to accept a 'Fuck off you dirty bastard' as well.

Instead, Spock seemed to lose some of the tension in his shoulders and the corner of his mouth twitched so slightly that Jim thought that he might have imagined it. "That was an illogical argument, Captain-"

"Jim."

"But I think I understand the sentiment behind it and I appreciate it." He paused for a moment and then added a soft, "Thank you." Spock abruptly straightened again and looked Jim straight in the eye. Jim was mildly disappointed to see that his shields were back up at full force, but decided that it would just have to be his goal to get the emotion back to his eyes. "If that is all, please excuse me. I must retire for the evening."

Jim nodded. "Of course. We're bound to have another exciting, long day tomorrow." Spock didn't say anything, missing the joke behind his words. Tomorrow would be the same as today: an uneventful state of commuting. It would still be a few days before they arrived at their destination.

Spock turned on his heel to leave. "Goodnight, Spock," Jim called after him. Spock paused for a moment to turn around and nod in acknowledgment. Jim chuckled as the door slid shut behind his first officer. While he wasn't entirely sure what had just happened, he thought that it could probably be considered those baby steps that he was slowly getting accustomed to taking. The first sign of progress. Regardless, they seemed to be on the path to a real friendship. It would just take patience.

Jim shook his head slightly and then left the observation deck. What a shame that James T. Kirk wasn't a patient man.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Every once in a while, Jim was reminded of how much he hated alarm clocks. There had to be a nicer way to wake a person that didn't involve loud, incessant beeping. He imagined that it wouldn't be too hard to create an alarm clock that would gently shake you and say things like 'It's time to wake up, you sexy beast, you'. But no, no matter how much technology had evolved over the past few centuries, Jim was still assaulted by the unforgiving, high frequency beeps of an alarm clock.

Groaning, Jim sat up and slammed his hand down on his alarm clock, finally gaining the peace and quiet that he so desperately craved. It wasn't normally a problem for him, as usually he would be wide awake and ready for the day and more capable of turning off his damn alarm. Unfortunately, he had a harder time getting to sleep last night than he had in a long time. And it was all because of that damn, green-blooded hobgoblin.

Jim groaned again at the thought of Spock and collapsed back down onto his bed. He had never met a man who was less willing to be open and blunt. He had spent the entire night trying to decipher Spock's few words and subtle movements. He couldn't help but feel like he was extending a lot more effort at a friendship than his alien first officer was. Which led Jim to believe that maybe he should take a hint.

Jim laughed to himself quietly before getting up to get ready for work. James T. Kirk almost never took a hint and was almost relentless in his attempts to get others to like him. Then again, it usually wasn't this hard either. Even back when he'd first met Uhura, he had felt like there was some kind of connection between them, even if it hadn't been sexual. But Spock was impossible!

Ugh, his preoccupation with his first officer was getting ridiculous. No, scratch that, it was far past ridiculous! He had never spent this much time trying to figure out a relationship, platonic or otherwise. And even though, at his core, he understood why Spock's friendship was important to him, he still didn't like having to show his less than confident side. He did have a reputation to maintain, after all.

Despite this, captaincy had changed something within Jim. He no longer felt like he always had to have the last word - even though he still did sometimes. He no longer felt the need to snidely comment on things that didn't involve him at all - although he still heckled Bones. And he was becoming insanely perceptive about the people around him...the people who were under his care. He couldn't pinpoint the change and he wasn't even sure it had a name to it. But some might call it maturity. And it was possibly because of this newfound maturity that he was willing to go to such lengths to befriend his unfriendable first officer.

For a moment, Jim entertained the idea that Spock simply didn't get close to anyone. Maybe he just liked being alone and didn't feel the need for companionship. Maybe that was just the Vulcan way. But no, his theory hit a brick wall almost instantly. Spock was close with Uhura. Really close. Jim shuddered and mentally suppressed the memory of them kissing on the transporter pads. As attractive as they both were, Jim didn't want to think about them together, talking and kissing and possibly sexing...whoa. Yeah, no, new topic.He definitely didn't get enough sleep last night.

Jim threw on his uniform carelessly, briefly looking in the mirror to see if he was presentable. Satisfied, Jim left his quarters and headed for the dining hall. He walked in and gazed around, immediately spotting McCoy sitting with one of the nurses. Bones looked up when he walked in and gave a wave with his hand. Jim nodded at him and went to go find food quickly. He hadn't really seen Bones in a while, having been insanely busy with settling into the rank of captain and becoming accustomed to the rest of the crew and ship. So he was really looking forward to a conversation with his old friend, no matter how short it would probably be.

After piling sausage, eggs, and hashbrowns onto a plate, he moved over to where Bones was now sitting alone. He looked at him questioningly, wondering where the nurse had gone, but McCoy merely shrugged and began eyeing his plate, disapproval etching its way across his face.

"I don't recall adding any of that to your diet," he grumbled as Jim sat down. Jim smiled at him carelessly and shoved a bite of hashbrowns into his mouth.

"It's okay in moderation and it's good for the soul," he said around his bite. A look of disgust crossed McCoy's face, but Jim merely smiled and ignored it. He was pleased as the two fell into an easy conversation, Bones inserting a random complaint now and then. Jim had almost been able to forget the source of his endless insomnia when he walked into the dining hall.

Jim watched his moves carefully, trying to discern whether or not Spock had been affected by their conversation in an even remotely similar way. However, he seemed to be his normal, over-efficient self as he piled various fruits into a bowl. Jim felt an unexpected disappointment settle into the pit of his stomach. After all of his expended energy, and Spock didn't even have decency to look appreciative. Jim ignored the small voice in the back of his mind that was yelling at him that it wasn't the Vulcan way.

"What's wrong, Jim," Bones asked, watching him intently. Jim was momentarily relieved that they weren't in the sickbay, or else Bones probably would have pulled out a tricorder and his hyposprays. Then he realized that Bones was a tricky man who probably carried them around on his person just to torment Jim.

"Nothing," he replied, turning his attention away from the Vulcan who was sitting down with Uhura a couple tables away. However, Bones raised his eyebrows and fixed him with a stare that would make even the toughest criminal confess. "I just didn't sleep much last night."

"Jesus, Jim," Bones sighed, sitting back in his chair. "Why didn't you come down to the sickbay? I could have given you something to help you sleep."

Jim shrugged and ignored him, instead choosing to continue eating. "I didn't think it would be such a problem," he finally confessed after the last of his food was gone.

Bones glared at him for another moment before asking in exasperation, "Well, what's going on?"

Jim faced one of his rare internal battles. Lying to Bones was always a bad idea, as the doctor always seemed to know when he was lying. However, the truth was just a little more than embarrassing. After all, it was really crazy that he was losing sleep over a lack of friendship between him and Spock. Then again, he really didn't want to be pestered about what was bothering him until Bones magically discovered what was wrong. Because he would. Bones always managed to find out what was upsetting Jim.

"It's Spock."

McCoy spit out the water that he had just taken a sip of, spraying Jim, who instantly regretted his choice of timing. Although, it was so funny it was almost worth it.

"Spock? Your first officer? The pointy eared bastard? The green blooded hobgoblin?" McCoy asked, trying to make sure they were talking about the same person. Jim nodded sadly. "What about him?"

Damn, he already regretted telling Bones the truth. "I just...don't understand why he refuses to be my friend!" he exclaimed quietly. When Bones raised his eyebrows, Jim sighed and continued, "I try so hard and put my best foot forward and try to appeal to logic around him, and we still haven't become anything but acquaintances who work together."

"And that's a bad thing why...?" McCoy asked, his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. No, he supposed Bones wouldn't understand. Jim, true to his word, hadn't told anyone about his encounter with the older Spock. Therefore, saying anything about how they were destined to be friends would sound, not only creepy, but unusual. Especially since Jim was known for his lack of belief in things like fate and destiny.

"Maybe I just want him to be my friend," Jim stated defensively. At McCoy's disbelieving stare, Jim elaborated, "I see him everyday and the awkwardness is becoming intolerable. I mean, if we have to work together, we might as well get along, right?"

"Right..." Bones still sounded skeptical and looked as if he'd like to drag Jim to the sickbay and give him psych evaluation right then and there.

"I just don't know what else to do! I mean, I've been polite and engaging, and I even apologized-"

"Wait," Bones interrupted, "you apologized? James T. Kirk apologized for something?"

Jim shot a dirty look at his friend. "I'm not a complete asshole all the time," he defended. "I can be very friendly when I feel like it."

"What a shame you rarely feel like it," Bones mumbled under his breath.

"Like you can talk," Jim teased. And just like that, the previous conversation was all but forgotten as they resumed their friendly banter. Jim was relieved that he'd been able to dodge that bullet. He really didn't think that there were rational words to explain why he was so desperate for Spock to be friends with him. In fact, he wasn't sure he fully understood the desire himself.

As breakfast came to an end, Jim and Bones stood, ready to go to their respective stations: Jim to the bridge and Bones to the sickbay. Jim clasped Bones on the shoulder in a friendly farewell and then made his way to the bridge.

"Good morning crew," he called out cheerfully as the turbolift doors behind him closed. The crew, by now, was fairly used to his antics and he relished in the familiar reactions: Uhura rolled her eyes, Chekov smiled back brightly, and Sulu shook his head in appreciation and amusement. Only Spock didn't react to his greeting, but then, he never did.

"Any new updates?" he asked as he sat down in his chair. A round of 'negative' reached him and he settled back in his chair, ready to sit through a new, fairly dull day on the bridge. Oh well, that just gave him more time to formulate a way through Spock's hard exterior and show him that he really was a decent person...mostly.

Having nothing better to do, he turned to watch his first officer at work. He smiled when he watched Spock's certain movements, his hand gliding effortlessly over the console and he found himself fixated by the long, pale fingers. It was odd, but Spock's fingers were the part of his first officer that he was easily most acquainted with. Between the mind meld and his near death experience, Spock's fingers had come into contact with him more than anyone else's on the ship, except for Bones. And that was only because he was a doctor who insisted upon actually making sure Jim was healthy.

Jim sighed and turned away. He wished there was something to do - anything to do. Anything that could distract him from his newfound obsession with his first officer would be excellent. Of course, nothing presented itself, so Jim slipped back into his Spock thoughts.

Spock was a telepath, wasn't he? Of course he was, he was a Vulcan...well, half-Vulcan, but it didn't seem to matter much in terms of his ability to be Vulcan. Plus, the mind meld on Delta Vega? It was still Spock, just older. Jim noted how much easier life would be if he were a telepath. It would certainly solve his current problem. If he knew what Spock was thinking or feeling, he would be able to swoop in and fix the broken bridge between them.

Then again, what if he learned something he didn't like? What if Spock really, truly disliked Jim's presence? Or maybe the thought of friendship with a human was unbearable? What if Spock wanted to go to the new Vulcan colony? No, Jim wouldn't like knowing about these thoughts so much, regardless of the perspective they would bring. So, in a perfect universe, he would highly enjoy telepathy. However, in this one, he would let it be and instead try to gain insight the old fashioned way: by prying shamelessly.

But how does one go about prying when it involves a stubborn half-Vulcan with no sense of the term 'compromise'? Jim didn't have the faintest clue.

"How many days until we reach Organia?" Jim asked suddenly.

Sulu turned to look at him, surprised at the breach in silence. "Approximately 4 days, Captain," he replied.

"Anything on the communications front?" he asked, turning to face Uhura.

She shook her head, muttering a soft, "No, Captain."

Jim nodded and started thinking. This should be a fairly easy. Their sole purpose of going to Organia was to convince them to become an ally to the Federation. It should be quick and as they were a generally peaceful people, if not a bit standoffish. _Worse comes to worse, they say no, _Jim thought as he brought a hand up to rub his temple. All of sudden he had a massive headache. _Probably from boredom._

Well, maybe if he did something...anything. Jim got up and started to walk around, observing his crew at work. If they were as bored as he was, they gave no external sign. As he approached Spock, he began to slow and hesitated, watching him work over his shoulder. If Spock had been human, he might have been unnerved by the presence at his shoulder. However, he continued working as he had before. Jim remained standing behind him, though, determined to get a response from his first officer.

After a few minutes (which was longer than Jim felt was necessary), Spock turned around to face him. "Can I help you, Captain?" he asked, sounding a bit frustrated. Jim ignored it, almost positive that he had imagined the inflection in his voice.

"I was just observing your hard work, Mister Spock," he replied, before moving from behind him to stand beside him. "So what would you say to dinner tonight?" Well that was tactful and professional all at the same time. If Jim had been standing next to a wall, he might have considered banging his head against it.

Spock did a double take, which forced Jim to repress his urge to laugh. He hadn't thought it possible for Vulcans to double take. "With you, Captain?"

Jim laughed. "No, with the magical Klingons who just beamed onto the ship," he responded, his voice laced with humorous sarcasm. "Of course with me!"

Spock thought about it for a moment before replying, "While dining with the Klingons may prove to a more pleasurable experience, dining with you will suffice."

Jim's eyes widened as he took in his first officer's response. Spock had just told a joke. A joke! Or...at least he was pretty sure it was a joke! He looked around to see if anyone had heard it, but his crew was still hard at work. So Jim just laughed and clapped Spock on the back before saying, "Excellent, I will see you tonight in my quarters then when we get off duty."

Jim moved back to his chair again, wondering whether or not that had been too personal. After all, they hadn't really had to much contact outside of work and it did seem like a fairly massive leap. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to dislodge the thoughts. _What's done is done_, he thought and forced his thoughts to wander elsewhere before becoming so restless that he just gave up. He would go do some paperwork that he had been procrastinating on or something. Anything but just sit there and anxiously await dinner.

"Mister Spock, the bridge is yours," Jim said after a moment before excusing himself. He should probably find out what Vulcans liked to eat if he was going to have one as a guest. Maybe Bones knew what a normal Vulcan diet consisted of. He was, after all, a doctor. If that failed, he could always try the computer...or guess.

"Hey Bones," Jim all but shouted as he walked into the sickbay. Bones jumped and then quickly fumbled for some of the things that had fallen out of his arms, barely catching them before they hit the ground. He set his items on a counter and turned to glare at Jim.

"What in blazes are you doing?" he demanded, keeping his tone down for the mere sake of his patients. "You can't just barge in here yelling and throwing a fit."

Jim suppressed a chuckle and instead decided to simply address the reason of his visit. "I'm having dinner with Spock tonight and don't know as much about their eating habits to make a good host...or even a decent host."

"Well, Vulcans are vegetarians-"

"I know that, tell me something I don't know!"

Bones glared at him again. "Unless you don't know the meaning of the word 'vegetarian', you should be fine with that knowledge alone." With that, Bones turned back to the counter to gather up his stuff, grumbling under his breath about captains who didn't respect hard working doctors.

Jim smiled at his friend's back and turned to go back to his quarters. He would work on some paperwork and then find decent food that both he and Spock could enjoy. Spock would be his friend, he could feel it.

As he walked out of the sickbay, Bones called after him, "Wait, dinner with Spock?"

A.N.  
Thanks for the reviews guys. I just wanted you to know that I take what you say to heart and try to take all advice into account. I'm open to suggestions, of course, and welcome them. Just to address one review, I actually did consider putting this in 1st person from Jim's pov, but I think that it's insanely difficult to do without making the character sound juvenile and I have never been good at it. Regardless, I'm fairly satisfied with the way this is going thus far. I hope you guys are too!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jim was amazed at the amount of paperwork he could get done if he sat down and put his mind to it. Sure, it had taken him until the end of his shift, but he had gotten the majority of the unpleasant chunk done. He wondered briefly if anything exciting had happened on the bridge, but then quickly dismissed the idea. Spock would have called him if there was anything worth knowing about.

Jim quickly gathered the remaining stack of paperwork and placed it in a folder and put it in one of his drawers. He found that it was also a lot easier to clean and organize when he didn't have as much of it. He smiled and then walked over to the replicator in his room and began to fumble with the settings. Spock should be here soon as he got off duty at the same time that Jim did.

There were a lot of vegetarian meals that sounded so unfamiliar to him. Things with rutabagas and eggplant and brussel sprouts...who programed the replicators on this ship? Nobody likes brussel sprouts, nobody. And he'd never eaten something with a rutabaga or eggplant either, especially not together. After a few minutes of experimenting with his replicator, he gave up and decided that Spock would just have to enjoy an old fashioned pasta dish with a marinara sauce. Plus, everyone likes pasta.

He waited for the replicator to finish the meal and then set the plates on his desk, deciding to set up later. But where was Spock? He should have been off duty by now. No, he should have been off duty at least a half an hour ago. Maybe something had happened on the bridge that required extra time, although Spock really should have notified him if anything had happened. No, he was probably just changing clothes and taking his time.

When another hour had gone by, Jim really started to worry. Was he being stood up by his first officer? He was Jams T. Kirk. He didn't _get_ stood up! He looked at the plates that he had set up - the food was probably cold by now. He was surprised at the heavy disappointment that settled into his stomach. Sighing, he began to clean up the plates, deciding that he wasn't hungry after all and that he might as well just go to bed. He was so sleep deprived.

Friends were overrated anyways. He had Bones and that was all he needed. Plus, the half-Vulcan more often than not drove him crazy. All that logic was fine and all, but Jim felt like a conversation with Spock could taken directly out of a textbook. And who wanted to be friends with a living, breathing textbook?

A knock on the door startled Jim out of his thoughts and he groaned in frustration. He just wanted to be left alone to wallow in his own self-pity. Was that really too much to ask? He stalked to the door, and took a deep breath. He didn't really want to take out his anger on the poor innocent person on the other side of the door. It wouldn't be very captainly.

Regaining some of his composure, he opened the door and was surprised when it revealed Spock, standing stiffly with his hands behind his back. Jim stood staring at him, all but gaping. He had too much dignity to gape, but he was pretty sure that his stunned silence gave the same impression. Spock merely stood still, waiting for Jim to step aside to let him in.

"You're late," was the only intelligent thing that Jim could manage, and he couldn't quite mask the slightly accusatory tone that laced through his voice.

Spock inclined his head slightly. "As there was no specified time, I find that it is impossible to be late, Captain." He paused for a moment and seemed to note that Jim was still a little put off. "However, I do apologize for the delay in my arrival. I had personal matters to attend to."

Jim sighed and stood aside, an invitation for Spock to come in. "It's Jim, Spock. You're here as my friend not my first officer."

Spock seemed to consider this, but didn't respond and instead stood awkwardly in the doorway as the door closed behind him. Jim glanced at him before deciding that it was best to ignore him for the moment and instead work on getting food again. For some reason, upon Spock's arrival, his mood had risen slightly, as had his appetite. Plus, he was pretty sure that Spock wouldn't make plans for dinner and then eat beforehand, so he was betting that he was pretty hungry.

He began to fumble with the replicator again, quickly finding the meal that he had chosen before and waited for their meal. He glanced over at Spock who was looking around his room with obvious curiosity. He was still standing by the door, seemingly uncertain as to what he should do.

Jim decided to take pity on the half-Vulcan and looked around for a place for him to sit. After a moment, Jim realized that he regretted not having the foresight to clean off his table before having someone over. He glared at the table for being covered in clutter before coming to a decision that he knew he would probably regret later. He swept his arm across it, letting books and papers fall to the floor with a flutter and a thump. He smirked and pulled the table out of the corner so they would both have room. Well, no one could ever say that he wasn't inventive, if not a bit rash.

He looked up and saw Spock watching him intently, his eyebrow already raised, but Jim was pretty sure it was his way of laughing at him, so he smiled at him in what he hoped was a welcoming manner. It was probably best to start out with Spock knowing that he forgave him for being late. "I hope you like pasta, because that's pretty much the only thing I could find that had ingredients that I fully recognized." He swept his hand toward one of the chairs, a clear gesture for him to take a seat.

Spock hesitated only a moment before swiftly moving over and taking the proffered seat. Jim turned back to the replicator, which was finished with the meal. He went to pick up the plates only to discover that they were incredibly hot when he picked them up. Jim glared at them slightly as they burned his hands. It was only due to the presence of his first officer that he refrained from openly complaining. However, that didn't stop him from all but throwing the plate in front of Spock in order to avoid long term contact. He glanced at Spock half-apologetically before grabbing the two glasses of water and sitting down with him.

For a couple of minutes, the two of them just sat in silence eating and Jim began to wonder whether this had been a bad idea after all. He had no idea what to say and as each minute passed, the silence got thicker and more awkward. Jim glanced up at Spock every few moments to find that he was methodically focused on his food.

"Can I ask you a question?" Jim asked, finally, deciding to settle on something that had bothered him ages ago. Over time he'd just forgotten about it, but now that he had some time to talk to Spock, the question came back in full force.

"I welcome it, sir," Spock responded, looking up from his plate.

Jim rolled his eyes. "Jim," he corrected, but continued, "why did you come back?" Spock remained quiet and a confused glaze flashed across his eyes. Jim decided it was best to clarify. "I mean, I had heard that you had resigned from Starfleet and even if you hadn't, I could list several reasons why I hadn't expected your return to the _Enterprise_."

Spock didn't answer for a moment and instead looked down at his plate and began fidgeting with the pasta. _He's nervous_, Jim realized. "Did you not wish me to return?" he asked tersely after couple of minutes, a hint of sadness hiding in his eyes.

Jim was immediately horrified. "No, no, no, no. Of course I wanted you back. I wouldn't have accepted your offer otherwise," he said in a rush, waving his arms around for emphasis. "No, not at all. Is that what you thought?"

Silence.

Oh...well shit. That's what he really thought...what had given him that idea? After reflecting for a moment, Jim could see it. It wasn't blatant and it wasn't intended, but for a while, in the beginning, things had been extremely tense between the two of them. Jim had still been settling into his position as captain and had been fairly cranky all around. He had wanted nothing to do with his first officer at the time as they had both been on edge, feeling that it was probably best to avoid an all out brawl, partially because it wasn't what captain's and their first officers did and partly because he knew that Spock could beat him with both hands tied behind his back.

However, after the first week or so, Jim began to mellow out as he became more accustomed to the constant saluting and all the 'captains' and 'sirs'. He no longer felt on edge and had started to relax on the bridge and around his officers. It had nothing to do with Spock, personally. Not really anyways. It was just a...precaution.

Jim hadn't paused to think about how he had been coming off to the half-Vulcan, and quite frankly, he hadn't thought that he would mind. If anything, he figured that Spock would be the one to still hold a grudge against him. Although, now that he thought about it, he realized how foolish his assumption had been. Vulcans didn't hold grudges. Humans do though.

He almost groaned in disbelief. Now that he thought about it from someone else's perspective, he could see how, just maybe, if you squinted, he could seem a little less than welcoming. That was eons ago though! Okay, it was really just a few weeks, but Jim felt like his most recent outreach behavior should make up for his past coldness.

Well, it least kind of explained why Spock generally rebuffed his previous ventures into friendship. Kind of.

Jim sat down his utensils and gave Spock his complete and undivided attention, wanting his first officer to understand in no uncertain terms what he was about to say. After all, Jim wasn't the kind of guy who enjoyed talking out feelings and such and he only wanted to have to say this once. "Spock, you are one of my most valued officers on this ship. I wasn't lying when I said I would be honored to have you as my first officer. And even though we might have disagreements over how to handle some missions, I can't think of anyone else who I would rather have as my first."

Spock looked like he was thinking over Jim's words, dissecting them. He almost sighed. This was the second time in a twenty-four hour period when he had attempted to appeal to Spock's emotional side. To be honest, it was exhausting - but, surprisingly, not in a bad way.

Spock seemed to take Jim's words to heart and seemed to lighten up considerably. He didn't say anything, but then, he didn't really have to and Jim was equally willing to let the subject just die. They continued their meal in silence, but a companionable silence. While Jim didn't mind, it didn't really assist him in his getting-to-know-Spock quest, either.

"This was one of my mother's favorite meals," Spock said suddenly, surprising Jim. Spock wasn't know for randomly volunteering personal information without a significant amount of questioning. _Progress!_

"Pasta and marinara sauce?"

Spock glanced at him and then back at his face, his face giving no clue to what might be going on in his mind. "Indeed," he replied dryly. "I never understood what she meant when she said that she preferred one meal over anther. It was illogical. Food is for the sole purpose of sustaining a body and providing energy. As long as it follows my moral guidelines, taste is of no importance."

Jim laughed. "Yeah, humans put a lot more emphasis on taste than I would imagine a Vulcan would." Spock inclined his head and took another bite. "My mom liked pasta because it was easy. She liked cooking, but didn't always have time or energy. So she would make pasta."

"Fascinating," Spock replied, raising his eyebrow in a mystified fashion. "I was unaware that people still cooked their own food. With the invention of the replicator, it just is not necessary."

Jim nodded. "Most people I know do use replicators, but my mom always used cooking to unwind after a long day. It was always relaxing for her." Silence fell between them again and Jim was beginning to think this was hopeless. "So what was your mother like?"

Spock became still all of a sudden and refused to meet Jim's gaze. It seemed like he was facing some kind of internal struggle, and Jim wasn't sure he blamed him. It was a sensitive and personal topic and he wasn't sure whether he'd earned the right to ask that question just yet. He was just about to retract the question when Spock began to speak.

"My mother was a teacher before her union with my father forced her to relocate to Vulcan. It took her a while to adjust to the emotional suppression of the Vulcans, but she loved my father and therefore made the effort for him. I know that it probably disappointed her that I was not more like human children, not in appearance nor attitude. But she always supported my decisions." Spock paused for a moment, his face briefly contorting with an unnamed emotion before resuming its normal stoic expression. "As a child I was often the victim of cruel taunts from fellow classmates for my mixed heritage. My mother always felt guilty as she thought that she was to blame for how was I was treated. But she was a great comfort to me." Spock paused for another moment before saying softly, "Sometimes I wonder if she knew how much I cared for her."

Jim listened the entire time attentively. "I'm sure she knew, Spock," he said, unconsciously reaching out to touch him on the shoulder in comfort. Spock stiffened slightly but didn't pull away and lifted his eyes to meet Jim's. Jim took in the dark brown eyes and for a moment found that he was unable to look away. It was the first time that he noticed that Spock wore his heart in his eyes, although he seemed to be desperately trying to hide it now. He could see the doubt as clearly as if he had verbally expressed it.

"How could she know a sentiment that was never expressed?" asked Spock, tearing his gaze away and pulling away from Jim.

Jim laughed slightly, an attempt to lighten the mood. "She was your mom and moms always seem to know everything. I know my mom could tell what I was thinking or feeling no matter what, sometimes before I did myself." Jim shrugged, "It's just what they do."

Spock didn't seem comforted by this, so Jim decided to try again. "Ever heard the phrase 'actions speak louder than words'?" Spock nodded slightly, waiting for Jim to continue. "You don't always have to use words to express how you feel. I'm sure your mom knew that you loved her from all the little things you did and," he added almost as an afterthought, "I'm sure she loved you just the way you are and wasn't disappointed in the slightest."

Spock's faced flush a light tinge of green and Jim felt himself embarrassed for his own emotional display that evening. They needed to find a less sensitive topic if they wanted to retain any of their sense of manliness...or Vulcan-ness.

Unfortunately, their conversation about Spock's mother seemed to lead to him closing himself off to any other attempts at a conversation. All of Jim's prime topics went no where, leaving him frustrated and Spock even more withdrawn than usual. It wasn't long before Spock excused himself, thanking Jim before he took his leave.

After Spock was gone, Jim sank down onto his bed, feeling a sense of despair come over him. Despite how well he had thought their dinner was going, the topic of Spock's mom had probably been a bad decision on Jim's part. It was too soon to ask the half-Vulcan such personal questions. Especially if said personal questions revolved around a recently deceased mother.

Regardless, tonight could be viewed as a giant step backwards. Sure Spock had opened up, but right now it didn't seem to be worth the cost.

There was a knock on the door. Jim started at the sound and then turned to glare at the intruder, even if he had no idea who it was. Who could it be at this hour?

He stood up and opened the door, grumbling under his breath about how the ship better be plunging into an inferno of fiery death if they were disturbing him at this hour. When the door opened, he was stunned when he saw Spock again. He hadn't even been gone for thirty minutes...was he that displeased with their evening that he felt like he needed to yell at him for it? In a calm, Vulcan manner of course.

"What's up, Spock?" Jim asked tiredly.

Spock paused for a moment as if he had no idea why he was here. Indeed, he did look rather confused about the entire situation. Well, as confused as a Vulcan could look. Jim raised his eyebrows, waiting impatiently for his first officer to say whatever it was he had to say. "I wanted to express my gratitude for this evening," he finally said, sounding a lot more sincere than he had when he'd first left Jim's quarters.

"It was nothing, Spock," Jim replied, sounding mildly surprised.

"Indeed."

Silence.

"Good night, Spock."

"Good night...Jim."

Jim's heart stopped short in his chest. He knew it! Spock said his name! Ha, had he called that, or what! Maybe tonight wasn't such a failure after all.

A.N.

So, I have learned that Spock speak is harder to write than you'd think. So I'm sorry if it sounds horribly out of character and horrible. I'm making efforts to improve it. Thanks for the reviews guys. I'm going to try to keep up a fairly regular updating schedule.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Jim woke up in a far better mood the next morning, although there really wasn't much of a reason for it. The alarm still went off with loud, annoying beeps. He still hadn't gotten as much sleep as he would have preferred. And he still had to drag himself out of bed with no positive prospects for the day. However, at the same time, Jim was happy, almost ecstatic. Exuberant if you will.

Spock had said his name. As in Jim. The word 'Jim' had come from Spock's mouth. Willingly.

Jim smiled to himself as he pulled on his uniform, deciding that nothing could make this day less than excellent. He continued to smile as he made his way to the dining hall, probably confusing the hell out of his crew as they stopped and saluted him. His smile didn't even hitch as he got breakfast and sit down with Bones, who looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"If I didn't know that you had dinner with Spock last night, I would say that it looks like you had a fun evening."

Jim just continued smiling as he began to eat. McCoy watched him for a moment before sighing in exasperation. "What the hell happened, or do I not want to know?"

Jim swallowed, still smiling, which was rather remarkable if he thought about it. He knew that he wouldn't be able to keep it up too much longer, though, as the muscles in his face were starting to ache a little. "He said my name, Bones," Jim said.

Bones looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Who? The pointy eared bastard? Do you smile this much when anyone says your name...Jim?"

He laughed a little and shook his head. "No, you don't understand. Spock said my name. Do you know what that means? It means he's taken the first step towards a real friendship. It means that he's starting to feel comfortable around me!"

Bones just stared at him, staring long enough for Jim's smile to ease up a little and for him to fidget under his scrutiny. "Are you out of your mind?"

"What do you mean?" Jim's smile officially dimmed and a look of confusion took up residence on his face in its place.

"He just said your name," Bones said, trying to reason with his friend. "It seems like you're projecting a whole lot into that one action. Plus, I'm not even sure he's capable of being friends with anyone.

"Bones," Jim said, exasperated, "there are only so many ways a that Vulcan shows that they like you. And Spock and Uhura seem to be fairly close, um, friends."

"Yeah, and I'm not even going to go into how crazy _that _relationship is." Bones shook his head. "I will never understand what she sees in him."

Jim smirked slightly as he got up to leave. It was time that he make his way to the bridge and grace the crew with his illuminous presence. "It must be the pointy ears," he said with a wink and walked away without another word, knowing that Bones was undoubtedly glaring at his back.

When he arrived at the bridge, he immediately noticed that Spock was already at his station and was diligently involved in his work. Like always. Jim smiled at his back before moving to take his seat. He gazed around at his crew, finding himself in the same situation that he was in yesterday. There was nothing to do. God, he hated the transit part of the job.

Like yesterday, he found his thoughts once again turning to his first officer. He also found himself observing him again. He was surprised to find that Spock seemed to be tenser than he usually was, which wasn't really saying much, since he was usually tense. He wondered what had caused the extra stiffness in his first officer's shoulders. Was it their dinner last night? Did he come to regret expressing so much of his personal affairs? All of a sudden, Jim couldn't imagine being so happy earlier this morning. He couldn't remember another single event in his entire life when he had felt this much doubt.

But then, as he observed the rest of his hardworking crew, he found that Spock wasn't the only one who was unusually tense. As his gaze passed over Uhura, he found that she was fidgeting and seemed to be sniffling. Or something. Jim had to resist the urge to sigh. Unfortunately, being captain meant that he had to care about his crew, and while usually that wasn't a problem, he couldn't help but feel like he was the wrong person for the conversation that he was about to have with his communications officer. Damn.

"Lieutenant Uhura," he said softly as he walked up to her. "Come take a walk with me."

She looked up at him and he met her bloodshot eyes. Yep, she had definitely been crying. For a moment she looked like she was going to refuse, but then she stood up and walked to the turbolift. She turned and looked at him expectantly and he nodded and followed her, calling out to Spock as he left, "Mister Spock, you have the conn."

He could feel Spock's eyes burning into his back as he entered the turbolift with Uhura. He had a feeling that whatever was bothering Uhura involved Spock, but he figured it was best to get both sides of the story on a one-on-one basis. Jim glanced at his communications officer out of the corner of his eye. She was staring resolutely at the door to the turbolift as if she was trying to will it to open so they could finish the conversation already. Instead, Jim reached out and pressed a button, causing the turbolift to come to stop.

She remained standing still, but Jim could see that she was nervously clenching her hands at her sides. He just turned to look at her, trying to think of the best way to ask her what was wrong without sounding like he was prying. He just wanted to make sure she was alright.

"If you called me away so you could pry into my personal affairs, _Captain_, I'm afraid that you've just wasted both of our time," she snapped smartly, still staring straight ahead, refusing to even attempt to sound welcoming.

Jim paused. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he finally said. As he watched, Uhura's hard exterior seemed to melt and for the first time since entering the turbolift she turned to look at him.

"I am fully capable of performing my duties, if that's what you're worried about," she reassured him, glancing down at her feet.

Jim shook his head slightly and rested his hand gently on her shoulder, causing her to look up at him. "I would never question your abilities, Lieutenant, I just was worried about you as an individual. You seemed to be having a hard time on the bridge."

She offered him a small smile and shook her head slightly and he took his hand back. "Thank you for the concern. I guess I'm just having a rough morning."

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about? Off the record, of course, between friends."

Jim knew that he was going out on a limb here. While he and Uhura were more than acquaintances, they weren't quite friends either. Sure, they had a fantastic working relationship and she still threw verbal barbs at him and he still flirted shamelessly with her, but that was about as deep as their relationship got. But he figured that she probably needed someone to talk to, as he fervently believed that talking about shit was the best way to get over it.

She gave him and odd look, but seemed to actually be considering his offer. "Not that it's any of your business," she said, suddenly becoming snappy, "but Spock and I have ended our brief relationship."

Jim had pretty much guessed as much, but he still put his best sympathetic face forward. He figured that her change in tone and attitude was a defense mechanism, and he couldn't really blame her. Once again he found himself knee deep in personal matters that he hadn't earned the right to know yet. And he wasn't entirely sure how to respond to them. While a snide remark was his first instinct, he also knew that he'd sound like the world's biggest asshole if he expressed anything more than his sincerest condolences.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. He was trying to find a way to turn this experience into a bright side, but everything that he could think of was extremely insulting to Spock and he didn't want to resort to negative feelings toward the half-Vulcan in an effort to cheer Uhura up. Not to mention, he highly doubted that she would appreciate it.

"It's alright," she said, "I didn't really expect it to last long anyways." Then, realizing that she had said more than she meant to, she shut down again. _A lot like Spock_, Jim thought in slight amusement.

They both stood there in silence, neither really knowing where to go from there. "I suppose we should head back," Jim finally said. Uhura nodded shortly, and Jim leaned over to push the button again, and the turbolift sprang into motion again. As they headed back to the bridge, Jim turned to Uhura one last time. "Hey, if you need anything or just want to talk or whatever, I'll always be here for you." Shit. That sounded so corny it was ridiculous. She seemed to realize that and chuckled slightly.

"Thanks, Jim," she said and quickly left the lift as the doors slid opened, heading back to her station. Jim followed her, still shaking his head at his sudden out of character offer. It wasn't that he didn't like helping, he just didn't usually offer in situations like that.

As they entered, Jim noticed that Spock was staring at both of them suspiciously. He knew that the next course of action would be talking to Spock, but as much as he wanted to make sure that he was alright, he just couldn't bring himself to have another conversation based entirely on emotion with his logical first officer. It seemed like all he'd done for the past few days was dredge through past emotional wrongs and current emotional problems. Maybe he'd talk to him later after giving both of them an emotional break. He knew that he needed it and, judging by Spock's background, he probably needed it too.

The door to the turbolift slid open and Jim turned to see Bones entering the bridge. Jim raised his eyebrows but smiled anyways. Bones was looking around, his gaze momentarily resting on Spock before turning back to Jim. Jim laughed quietly. McCoy had a nasty habit of randomly showing up and hanging out on the bridge whenever he was bored. He almost never contributed anything positive, but he was still a relief for Jim. Bones helped Jim stay grounded, in a way. While Jim didn't think he would that his captaincy would go to his head, it was nice to know that Bones would be around as a preventative measure...and as a friend.

"How long until we reach Organia?" Bones asked, leaning on the back of Jim's chair.

Sulu answered without turning around in his seat, "About three days."

Bones nodded. "How much do we know about these people?" he asked, sounding a little worried. Although the crew of the _Enterprise _hadn't completed a lot of missions yet, most of the ones that they had been through had ended in some kind of injury to at least one of the crew members - usually the captain himself. So it wasn't irrational to believe that this mission would probably end up with Jim in the sickbay.

Jim shrugged though, deciding to ignore Bone's underlying concern. "Not much," he replied honestly. "They tend to be a neutral people...um, they're super intelligent so we're gonna have to be on top of our game."

Bones nodded again and sighed. "What about the virus that's closely associated with these people?"

Jim looked at him, wondering how he'd known about that. Then he decided that it was probably just something he knew because he was a doctor. "What about it?" he asked casually.

"Oh, I don't know," Bones exclaimed, exasperated. "How about the fact that it's deadly?"

Jim didn't answer, not knowing what the proper response would be. He knew that no matter what he said, Bones would worry unnecessarily. And, in truth, it was a valid concern. Deadly viruses would be the perfect addition to his list of recent disasters that had thus far troubled his ship. If he had believed in such things, he would have said that the _Enterprise _was cursed.

"We're not even going to the planet that is afflicted with the virus," Jim reasoned, hoping to placate his chief of medicine. While it didn't seem to completely eradicate his fears, Bones sniffed in mild disgust at not being taken seriously and left the bridge.

Jim sighed and turned back to gaze upon his crew. For the most part, they all seemed to have stiffened in their chairs at the mention of the deadly virus. While they had all been informed of the basics of the mission and the possible dangers behind it, Jim could see how hearing concerns from the chief of medicine could be disheartening. Making a mental note to reprimand Bones for a lack of tact, he got up to observe his crew, occasionally issuing a command or a compliment. As he passed Uhura, he put a comforting hand on her shoulder briefly before moving on. She looked up at him and gave a small half-smile as he moved on.

How much longer until he was off duty? Too long, undoubtedly.

"Mister Spock," Jim called out suddenly. When his first officer looked up at him, an eyebrow raised, he continued, "Would you be so kind as to accompany me?"

"Of course, Captain," he responded, standing immediately.

"Sulu, you have the conn," Jim said and the officer acknowledged his statement as he and Spock headed for the briefing room. He didn't know why, but all of a sudden he felt the need to talk about the mission with his first officer. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that things could go horribly awry without too much warning. After all, Jim hadn't been kidding when he told Bones that they were super intelligent. And in Jim's experience, the more intelligent a person was, the easier it was to offend them with sheer ignorance.

"Captain?" Spock asked, almost sounding tentative and Jim realized that he'd just been standing in silence for a good minute, dwelling on his own fears.

"Does any of this seem weird to you?" Jim asked, deciding to let his first officer express any worries, assuming he had any.

"To what are you referring?"

Jim sighed. For a telepath, Spock really sucked at reading minds. Jim conveniently decided to ignore the fact that he was a touch telepath.

"The mission. The Organians. Any of it."

Spock pulled out his datapad where Jim presumed he had the information regarding the mission and perched on the edge of one of the chairs. As he began to look over it, Jim sat down a little impatiently. It had been a simple question and he had really been looking for answer based more on instinct than facts, but then, he supposed, that was what made him and Spock a good team. While Jim would follow his instincts, Spock could back up his thoughts with actual facts.

"Not particularly, sir," Spock replied after a few minutes of research.

Jim sighed and dropped his head into his hands, feeling the beginnings of a headache. "Why now, though?" he asked, vocalizing one of his main concerns.

If Spock had been more human, he probably would have shrugged right then, but instead he raised his eyebrow again. Damn that eyebrow. If Jim could convey half of the things that Spock could by merely lifting an eyebrow, he would probably give up displaying emotions too. "It is merely an alliance venture. It is the logical course of action with the Klingons becoming more active."

"Yeah, but if they're notorious for not taking sides, then why extend the effort now? Has something changed recently to make them suddenly more open to an alliance?"

"No, however, it is practical to extend the offer of an alliance every once in a while in order to prevent any animosity between them and the Federation."

"Spock," Jim said, his voice taking on an exasperated tone, "you know as well as I do that the Organians have extended life spans. It's part of being super intelligent or whatever. We're going to be extending the same offer to the same beings that the Federation did the time before." Jim hated to admit it, but the Organians truly did seem like a lost cause at this point in time. Maybe in another century there would be new Organian rulers with different views regarding neutrality, but until then, it simply seemed like a redundant process.

Spock put away his datapad and looked intently at his captain. "Is something troubling else you, Captain?"

Jim shook his head, trying to make sense of his own concerns before expressing them to his first. "I don't really know," he admitted, "something just feels off and I'm not sure what it is."

Damn Bones and his mention of the deadly virus. He knew, deep down, that this was what was making him uncomfortable about the situation, but no one knew enough about it to really give Jim a reason to pinpoint it as a reason to avoid contact with these people. However, the word 'deadly' was enough of a turnoff that he didn't think that he really needed another reason.

"Captain?" Spock asked, noticing that he had zoned out again.

"Hmm?" Oh, that's right. He was still with Spock. He supposed they could head back to the bridge now. Spock hadn't had any concerns so he supposed that he shouldn't really be worried either. "I guess that's all I had to talk about...unless you want to tell me what happened between you and Lieutenant Uhura?"

Wow, he hadn't intended to bring that up. As he looked at Spock, he found that he was slightly amused at his expression. He had clearly caught him off guard as well. Which led Jim to believe that it really shouldn't be so easy to catch himself off guard. Maybe if he started thinking before he spoke...

Spock stiffened almost imperceptibly, but Jim noticed and took pride in his ability to observe the nuances of Spock's body language. "What occurs between the lieutenant and I is our own concern," he responded in a clipped tone.

Which was Spock speak for 'mind your own fucking business'. Jim smiled slightly. Commence the shameless prying.

"So you guys did break up?"

Spock shot him a look that was quite possibly supposed to be a death glare. "Lieutenant Uhura and I have terminated our romantic relations, yes," answered Spock before standing up sharply. "If that is all, I will return to my duties on the bridge."

Jim nodded. "Of course." Spock stalked to the door without a backwards glance, leaving a beaming Jim behind him.

Despite his attempts at forging a friendship between himself and Spock, he still found that it was enjoyable to purposely antagonize his first officer. He should probably find a better way to get his kicks, though. One of these days, 'if looks could kill' was going to prove to be a more accurate saying than it was supposed to be, and Jim didn't want to be the first one to have his tombstone say "death by glare".

A.N.  
Sorry, this chapter was really more of a filler and set up and there wasn't much Kirk/Spock interaction. Next chapter should be exciting. I hope that I'm doing alright at keeping them all in character, but if you guys don't think I am, just yell at me and I'll do my best to rectify the problem. Thanks for the reviews guys! You're opinions mean a lot to me.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

This is what it's like to be Spock.

A logical being who finds himself lost in emotions that he can't fully understand. Emotions that he doesn't really want to understand. Yet he knows that he is supposed to feel this way, despite what his training has taught him. He just watched his planet be destroyed, lost his mother, his home...everything that he had ever known.

Gone.

So he knows, intellectually, that the constant ache is normal. That his sorrow over his mother is expected. That the pain over losing one's home doesn't go away overnight. And that his helplessness about the situation is irrational, but expected. Because what could he have done? What could anyone have done?

Nothing.

This knowledge doesn't stop his humiliation over what he internally faces on a daily basis. He is half-Vulcan and should have better control over how he feels. But he doesn't, and his emotions are a constant presence in his life, a shadow over his every move and thought. He feels as if he's being swallowed by his own feelings sometimes - and it makes him mad. Angry. Angrier than he can ever remember feeling.

Furious.

Spock knows what it's like to feel anger, yet he is never felt such a pervasive fury at everything around him. But he contains it, because he has to. Because he doesn't know how _not_ to. Although, sometimes he thinks that he just wants to let it all out - to just give up. To stop caring, to let go, to hide away and let the universe get by without him. In the scheme of things, he is relatively unimportant. And why not?

But he can't. And part of him feels even more anger for it.

But life goes on, logically, and Spock hides his emotions well. He always has. But he is on a ship with humans, humans who don't completely understand his need to simply be left alone. His need to 'suffer in silence' if you will. And he finds that he chafes under the sympathetic stares that still find him occasionally. As if sympathy can really make anything better.

Nothing can really make it better.

The sympathy is worse than the apologies. The apologies have all but stopped, but many of them still ring in Spock's ears. Because, really, what good is an apology? An apology can't undo a past wrong. An apology can't bring back a planet, a home. An apology can't wrap its arms around you in an embrace or laugh or smile...or love. What is an apology anyways?

Useless.

But at least apologies, once said, don't reappear often. The sympathy lingers though, attempting to be appreciated and helpful at the same time. Spock doesn't need it. He just wants to forget about everything, to block it out, an attempt to go about life as if nothing happened. And really, that's all he wants. It's what he needs.

To be alone.

But they won't let him, especially the captain.

James T. Kirk.

Spock doesn't know what to make of him, though he continually tries to categorize him. The Captain confuses him in a way that not even some of his hardest scientific work ever has. He makes him feel, makes him admit that he feels, and makes him show it more than Spock has ever showed emotion before. And he finds that it doesn't bother him so much. Even if Vulcans don't feel bothered to begin with.

It's illogical.

And it's weird to Spock, to allow the human to break through his personal rules and desires. Don't feel. Be alone. Forget. And he knows that the Captain can see through his stoic mask, but instead of strengthening his efforts to hide behind indifference, he kind of relishes in the idea of having someone know him for who he is. Not a mask, not a half-Vulcan, or a half-human. No.

As a person.

And this is what it's like to be Spock.

~*00*~

Jim was starting to come to the conclusion that the universe didn't want him to sleep. Although he was relieved to find that his thoughts had started to take a healthy balance between worry about Spock and worry about their mission. It didn't change the fact that he still had a hard time falling asleep and then woke up hours too early to be considered humane. He glanced at the clock. Yep, he still had a decent hour and a half before he had to even consider waking up. Fucking hell.

At least they were almost there. The past two days had passed uneventfully, as expected. Bones still teased him for being so invested in a friendship with Spock, his crew was still pretty much the best crew ever known to mankind, and Spock was still more aloof to the idea of friendship than Jim preferred. And to think, Jim had thought they'd made so much progress. Well, considering the other half of the equation was half-Vulcan, they probably had.

Jim sighed and rolled out of bed. He might as well get up and go find food. He could have a nice relaxing breakfast, which would be unusual. For an hour...probably more. Well, maybe Bones would be up as well. Jim almost choked on his laughter at that thought. He knew very good and well that Bones wouldn't wake up for at least another hour. Oh well, that just meant that Jim wouldn't get his daily lecture about his unhealthy food choices. Which, upon reflection, Jim would miss as part of his morning routine. Not that he would ever tell Bones that.

He made his way to dining hall, whistling a jaunty tune as he went. Knowing that they were almost to Organia cheered him up exponentially. It meant that he would finally be able to do something. Not that he particuarly enjoyed diplomatic missions, but he was still eager to get this over and done with. As soon as this mission was finished, there would be another - hopefully one that was more exciting. And while the slightly unsettled feeling remained in the pit of his stomach, he had managed to talk himself out of most of his pressing concerns. He figured he was just being insanely paranoid.

When he entered the dining hall, he found that it was almost empty. There were only a few people sitting around, presumably from the night shift, seeing as he couldn't remember any of their names to save his life at that moment.

Jim walked over to find some breakfast and surprised himself when he chose a primarily Bones-approved breakfast. Minus the sausage. He would still throw a fit over the sausage. Without Bones sitting around to annoy, there wasn't as much in picking foods that would leave him glaring in disapproval. It was then that Jim decided that he just enjoyed irritating people too much.

But they seemed to appreciate it too...for the most part, so who was he to deny his fellow crew members their daily dose of irritation?

Jim chuckled to himself slightly as he chose a seat and sat down. Now he only had....no, he still had an hour to kill. Damn troubling thoughts...and Spock. He found himself almost missing the carefree days back when he had no direction or responsibilities. Until he remembered the disappointed look on his mom's face whenever he would come home with bruises on his face. No, he was happy to be here, boredom and worry included.

As he ate, he noticed someone entering the room out of the corner of his eye and he looked up. It was Spock, and Jim suddenly realized why he very rarely saw him in the dining hall. He probably consistently got up at godforsaken early in the morning everyday. He noticed his first officer's dark eyes sweep around the room before landing on him. Jim almost laughed when his fairly predictable eyebrow went up in a show of surprise. Their eye contact only lasted a moment before Spock seemingly pulled his composure back together and went to go get his own food. Jim watched him as he moved fluidly, with such an easy, enviable grace. It was almost inhuman. Well, Jim supposed Spock was only half-human, so it would seem like his Vulcan half was overcompensating. Or maybe he was just graceful. A concept Jim couldn't fully understand, but could accept in others. Albeit with jealousy.

Who did Spock sit with this early? Maybe he was better acquainted with the night crew than he was and therefore probably had more acquaintances than he did. However, Jim doubted it. Spock didn't seem like the kind of person to go out of his way to meet people and his very stature discouraged any form of interaction. Yeah, Spock wasn't so much a people person. He probably just sat alone all the time.

But then, did Vulcans get lonely? Spock would say no, but Jim couldn't imagine that they didn't. After all, everybody needs somebody sometimes...wait, that was a song. Jim almost laughed aloud at himself. It was an ancient song, but a song nonetheless with slight word alteration. So much for deep, original thinking.

Jim went back to his eating, deciding that it was far to early to try to contemplate the workings of Vulcan emotions. But he felt an interesting sense of guilt overcome him when he looked up and found Spock sitting on his own, eating methodically, his gaze fixed firmly downwards. Well, maybe not guilt, because Jim didn't feel guilt for such ridiculous things, but the need to do something was still firmly planted in his head. Spock was his first officer after all. And, if Jim had it his way, his friend too.

Well, you have to be a friend to have one. Jim inwardly groaned as his mother's advice rushed back to him and he stood up resentfully to make his way over to Spock's table. The damn Vulcan couldn't have just sat with him? He had been there first, after all, it was only polite.

The small, less confident part of Jim's brain mentioned that maybe he was sitting alone for a reason, but he quickly shook that off. Vulcan or not, nobody likes being lonely. Assuming Vulcans got lonely. Damn circular reasoning.

"Hey Spock," Jim said, setting down his plate with a loud clatter and plopping down across from him unceremoniously. Spock looked up, his face blank, yet still expressing a surprised kind of confusion.

"Captain," Spock acknowledged and continued eating. Shit, he was back to calling him captain.

"It's Jim, Spock," Jim sighed, already regretting his decision to come play nice with his emotionless roller coaster of a first officer. Ridiculous.

Spock inclined his head though, "Of course, Jim."

A small thrill went through Jim's spine. He didn't understand the response, but decided that there was probably a chill combined with his utter joy...he guessed that could end up with the result of a small thrill...or something. Either way, he was happy at his small success.

"So what's up?"

Sure enough, Spock, of course, looked up, and looked back at Jim blankly. Yep, he really should have seen that coming. Damn Vulcan, always taking things so literally. Couldn't say hardly anything without being misinterpreted. Although, Jim would have bet his left arm and three vital internal organs that Spock knew damn well what he was talking about and was merely being an ass about it on purpose. He supposed he deserved it though. He _had_ come over here on his own free will with full knowledge of the potential consequences to his sanity.

Spock opened his mouth to give a very logical response to a very illogical question when Jim held up his hand and muttered, "Forget it. How was your evening?" There. There was absolutely no way Spock could misconstrue that sentiment.

"It was agreeable," Spock responded.

Oh. Agreeable? Jim felt the conversation die a rapid, painful death. Well, if Spock wasn't going to make any effort at all, why should he?

Because he cared.

Jim was temporarily surprised by his own thoughts. Well, he knew that he cared, but enough to put up with this kind of shit? Well, it was early. Maybe Spock just wasn't a morning person...or a noon person. Or a night person, either. But for some reason, Spock seemed worth it to him. And if it required a little bit more energy (or a lot, whichever), then Jim realized that he was willing to extend it.

"Well, my evening was spectacular," Jim said, just when the silence was getting unbearable again. "Thanks for asking though. Your concern was really touching."

Spock looked up at him, blinking surprise out of his eyes. "Pardon the miscommunication, but I did not inquire as to how your evening was, Jim."

"Yeah I know, but I decided it was easiest to pretend like you had." Jim gave him a cheeky smile. "I know that you were just burning up with a desire to make sure that I'm having a good life."

"It is good to know that you had a 'spectacular' evening then."

"Isn't it though?" Jim laughed.

There was another lull in the conversation, but this one wasn't nearly as suffocating as the previous one. It actually seemed like a silence that would happen after exhausting all conversation topics. A silence that appears after hours of excited chatter. A silence that comes between friends.

And Jim got this smile on his face. Big and bright. Infectious in a word. Because for a moment, if you were looking closely, you could see the corner of Spock's mouth curl up. Just for a moment, of course, but it was there. It wasn't a trick of the light or a reflexive move, but a genuine attempt at a smile.

Which of course only made Jim smile bigger. Spock just smiled.

~*00*~

This is what it's like to be James T. Kirk. For the moment, anyways.

Headstrong and brash, arrogant and stubborn, yet still caring and perceptive. Quick to fight and slow to give up, he is still charming enough to get most people to not only tolerate his antics, but appreciate and enjoy them as well.

Except for Spock.

The one relationship that matters, and Jim is at a loss. He wants nothing more than this, a bond that can span through decades. A friendship that will put all others to shame. A relationship that will change them both for better or for worse.

For good.

And he can't explain it, nor does he want to. The need, the desire, is there, burning with a strength that he is unfamiliar with. This isn't like other wants. It is more desperate, more important, more unnameable.

There's necessity behind it.

And it's strange for Jim, because already, he knows that he is willing to do almost anything for Spock - though he won't dare admit that to himself, let alone aloud. It's why he doesn't hesitate when Spock asks for a favor.

"Anything."

And it's a simple request, though Jim knows he would have flown to the edge of the universe and back if just to maybe see the small hint of a smile for just one more moment. Just the small upward twitch of Spock's lips had filled Jim with something that doesn't have a name - something that doesn't deserve a name.

Unconditional...something.

And Spock asks Jim to tell him about his previous encounter with his older self. Jim is momentarily surprised, because of Spock's blatant curiosity and the knowledge of said older self. After all, the universe should have come to an end by now. But Jim can't be bothered to care about the older Spock's lies. Because, in the end, it doesn't really matter. In the end, all he cares about is the bond that will someday exist between him and this Spock.

And it's enough.

It's enough to know that it will exist. To know that all the effort and energy is going to result in something that transcends what most people can even imagine. To take comfort in what the future holds, even if today it's still a struggle. To be okay with the idea that things of worth don't develop overnight.

They must be earned.

Fought for and earned. And Jim intends to fight for this, because he can see the reward at the end of the fight. It's vague and it's further away than he would like, but it's there. And it's worth it. He just hopes that Spock thinks that it's worth it too. Because no matter how determined Jim is, it can't be just him.

It takes two.

And if that's part of the struggle, so be it. Jim looks forward to it. The greater the challenge, the greater the win. And Jim ignores the small voice in the back of his mind: _the higher the climb, the harder the fall. _

It doesn't matter.

Jim's not afraid of falling. Jim can take the blows just as well as he can give them. He has a lot of practice in that area. He just can't give up. He doesn't know the meaning of it. And he knows that he would never stop wondering about what could have been unless he tries now.

Because Jim doesn't want to wonder for the rest of his life.

Jim wants to know.

And this is what it's like to be James T. Kirk.

A.N.  
So, I've decided to experiment with my writing styles a little bit. A cookie goes to the person who can guess where I got the stylistic idea from. Haha. So, tell me what you think. It won't always be like this, just when I feel like writing more emotions than action. But if you hate it, it's also easy to avoid. Thanks for those who keep reviewing! It means a lot.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The _Enterprise _didn't actually arrive at Organia until late in the evening, later than they were supposed to. So they wouldn't actually be able to beam down to the planet until the next day, which was just as well since they weren't really supposed to be there quite yet. Jim had just been so eager for something to do, that he had been hoping that they would get there at a proper time.

At least, this way he would be able to keep his promise to Spock. That morning when he had asked Jim to recount the conversation that he'd had with the older Spock, he had been loathe to talk about it. Other people had started trickling into the dining hall, and it seemed like it should be a more personal conversation. And on a ship, gossip and rumors had a habit of spreading and manifesting without too much encouragement. Spock had agreed to postponing the conversation after assessing the situation. Thus, they had agreed to meet in Spock's quarters for dinner at the first available time. Now it appeared that it would be tonight.

Jim smiled slightly as the end of his shift came to an end, much to his relief. Oddly enough, he was looking forward to more conversation with Spock. Even though the emotional energy that it took to dredge through even a simple topic seemed insurmountable, some part of him felt that it was cathartic. Regardless, he found himself looking forward to it.

Not to mention, time had seemed to pass at a decelerated rate due to an obvious tension between Uhura and Spock that didn't seem to be going away anytime soon. And Jim had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to get anything out of either of his officers. At least, not without using unethical methods. Which he thought was best if he didn't dwell on. He might get too tempted.

Being on a bridge with two people who were quite obviously doing their best to pretend that the other didn't exist was really uncomfortable for the rest of the crew. Well, Jim was uncomfortable, and he was speaking for the rest of the crew. He just had to find a way to get them to act civilly towards each other again. Which really shouldn't be as hard as he thought it probably would be seeing as they were both fairly rational people.

As his shift came to an end, he exchanged a look with Spock and he walked over to him before he left. Quickly, they solidified their plans for dinner, agreeing to meet in Spock's quarters in a thirty minutes. Spock left to go prepare for a guest, leaving Jim on the bridge. As he was about to leave, someone from the next shift (_what was his name...Bill...Fred...damn?_) came up and asked him to sign some things that needed his clearance. Trying to hide his impatience, he quickly skimmed over the datapads before hastily signing them off and taking his leave.

As entered the turbolift, he happened to glance back and noticed that Uhura looked particularly depressed as she packed up her things for the day. Torn, Jim considered walking over and finding out what was wrong, but he knew that if he did, he'd probably be late for dinner. Plus, the bridge was much to crowded to have a personal conversation right then.

He was sure Uhura would be fine. After all, she was a strong woman and Jim couldn't imagine that she would let a silly little thing like a breakup bring her down. But as much as he wanted to believe that, in the depths of his heart he knew that Uhura really just needed someone to talk to. And as captain on the ship, he really should make sure that she was okay. Again.

Jim sighed as the turbolift let him off on his and Spock's level. Jim sighed again. He knew what he had to do. Walking over to a computer consol, he quickly typed in his authorization codes. "Computer, Lieutenant Uhura's location."

"Observation deck."

Jim sighed again and walked back to the turbolift to take him to the observation deck. He was going to be late because he was trying to be a good guy. Spock would understand. And he didn't want to be fighting his conscience the entire evening. Plus, maybe if he could find out what was still bothering Uhura, maybe the tension on the bridge would go away.

When the turbolift stopped, he walked onto the observation desk, pausing by the doorway to just observe the lieutenant where she stood silently. He dimly noted that he'd just had a serious conversation in the same exact place not even a week ago. If Jim wasn't careful, people might actually start to think that he was deep and caring and shit. Well, maybe not. And even if they did, was that really such a bad thing?

Jim found that he didn't have an answer.

Either way, he knew that he was already running late for his dinner with Spock so he only had a limited amount of time to talk to Uhura. Which, he realized, was probably for the best. He was far more talented at irritating her than cheering her up and really only wanted to help her. Slowly, he walked over to her, coming to the conclusion that he really wasn't the right guy for these kind of talks.

"Captain," she said without turning around as he approached her. Jim stopped, surprised that she'd known that it was him.

Deciding to just go with it, he responded, "Lieutenant. I noticed that you were rather...upset on the bridge today. Is everything alright?"

She shook her head slightly and turned to face him. Her eyes had a shiny glaze over them and there were tear stains on her cheeks. Jim inwardly cringed. He had never been good with tears. But he knew that he would have to stomach it if he ever wanted an enjoyable day on the bridge again. He waited for a moment, hoping she would just tell him what was wrong, but when she said nothing, he asked, "So, what happened?"

She looked at him, as if trying to decide whether or not it was worth confiding in him. She sighed suddenly and just shook her head. "Have you ever just been so angry that you just lost it? Said things that you didn't mean to say, that you didn't even know you were thinking until they were already out in the open?"

"What do you mean?"

Uhura shrugged and then choked on a sob. Shaking her head, she fought to regain her composure and Jim looked away to give her some privacy. After some sniffling, she seemed to pull herself together and pulled away from Jim a little bit to walk closer to the window. "I said horrible things," she whispered, her voice so soft that Jim had to strain to hear her. "To Spock...I was just so mad and it didn't make sense to me and I just...I just wanted him to hurt as badly as I was."

"What did you say?" A cold feeling was suddenly running through Jim's veins. He had a feeling that whatever had transpired between them had caused a lot more damage in his emotionally unstable first officer than either of them really realized.

Uhura remained silent for a moment, shame resonating from her still form.

"I accused him of not being able to feel - to love." She shook her head and impatiently wiped tears off of her cheek. She turned to face Jim again. "I've never seen a person look so miserably blank in my entire life."

"Like someone had kicked his puppy?" Uhura glared at him and Jim inwardly kicked himself for trying alleviate the seriousness of the conversation. It was the only way he knew how to deal with that kind of conversation. Jokes just made it easier. Uhura clearly didn't agree with him though, so he quickly sobered up. "Just apologize," he instead offered, knowing that it sounded like odd advice coming from him. "Spock's a fairly logical fellow, I'm sure he isn't above forgiveness."

Uhura looked away again, projecting a different kind of shame now. "I can't," she whispered, looking back at him with haunted eyes. The oddity of this entire conversation struck Jim suddenly. He'd never seen Uhura even close to breaking down, and now she was just letting it all out. Well, you'd never hear Jim claim that repressing one's emotions was a good idea and here was Uhura, blatant proof.

"Why not?" he demanded. He was hoping beyond hope that this wasn't a pride issue, because, at the end of the day, Jim didn't _really_ like sounding like a hypocrite.

"Part of me meant it."

...okay. That was not at all what he thought she was going to say. This definitely presented more of a problem than he had been prepared for. Had he known that accepting the captaincy of the _Enterprise _also came with so many emotional encounters from his more reserved crew members, he might have told Starfleet to go choke itself. No, really.

Jim take a moment to take a breath and calm the anger that was slowly boiling in his blood. His first instinct was to yell at her, to ask her how she could do such a thing. But he knew that, as someone whose very rank as captain had relied on a similar outburst, such a response would not only be inappropriate but also unhelpful.

So instead, he evenly asked, after gathering his thoughts, "What makes you think that?"

She shot a measuring look at him and seemed to decide that she had divulged enough information and went back to being vague. "I just don't think he's capable of love."

"He loved his mother," Jim replied smartly. He knew that it was different from what she was talking about, but he didn't have any other response that didn't involve raised voices and expletives. Lots of expletives.

"With all due respect, _Captain,_ most people love their mothers."

Jim gave a wry smile. "Well, I don't know. I can count several occasions when I've been less than fond of my mom."

Uhura sighed in exasperation. "But you still love her."

Jim fell silent for a moment, letting his eyes travel over the stars and planets around them. "Love isn't always that simple, Lieutenant. It doesn't always fit into that perfect box. Do I love my mom? Yes. Do I want to be around her for more than 15 minutes at a time? Sometimes. Do I ever openly express how I feel about her? Rarely." Jim turned to look at Uhura. "Just because I can't stand her presence and don't tell her everyday how much she means to me doesn't lessen how I feel towards her. Or maybe it does, I don't really know. But if anyone ever asks, the answer is yes. I love my mom."

Uhura stood silent for a moment, absorbing Jim's words. Jim found that he was becoming uncomfortable by the amount of people who seriously seemed to take his words to heart. He didn't ever want to give off the impression that he thought his advice was golden. Maybe bronze...

"But at least you express it once in awhile," she finally reasoned. He knew that she was merely trying to justify her actions to herself.

"Everyone shows that they care in different ways," Jim said, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. "If everyone did it in the same way, it'd be really boring. I mean, a person can only hear 'I love you' so many times before it becomes meaningless."

While he hadn't intended for it to be funny, Uhura laughed and Jim felt the seriousness of the conversation dissipate a little bit and felt a wave of relief. "You should apologize," he said. "Regardless of how you feel now, you'll probably regret it later if you don't."

Jim turned to make his way to the turbolift. He knew that he was so late for his dinner with Spock. He hoped that he didn't think that he'd stood him up, knowing that he had thought the same thing only a few days. He remembered the sinking feeling of disappointment when he had thought that Spock wasn't coming. He didn't want him to be experiencing the same thing.

"Hey, Captain?" Uhura's tentative voice called after him. Jim paused and turned around. "I mean, Jim." Pause. "Thanks. I know this was...hard for you."

Jim forced a smile and waved his hand in dismissal. "You have no idea." But he smiled brightly and quickly made his way off the observation deck. He had to hurry. He was so late that he knew that a few more minutes wouldn't really matter, but he still wanted to get to Spock's quarters as fast as possible. Plus, if he looked frazzled, maybe Spock would be more inclined to believe that he had been rushing about in a busy haze. Probably not, but it was a decent argument.

Then again, if he ran, he would look frazzled, which really wasn't his best look.

Jim thought about that for a moment before dismissing it as ridiculous. James T. Kirk always looked good.

Before he knew it, he was a Spock's door. For a second, he just stood there, hesitating. Then he decided that he'd stared down phasers and Romulans. This was just his first officer. His mostly pacifistic half-Vulcan, logical first officer. There was no reason to be nervous. Not that Jim was nervous. Jim didn't get nervous. He lifted his hand and knocked with a confidence that he wouldn't admit he didn't have.

The door slid open a moment later, revealing Spock. Jim immediately noticed the relief that was shining in his dark brown eyes. Spock had been worried that he wasn't going to show up and Jim felt guilt start to chew at his insides. He didn't care what excuses he had, none of them could possibly be good enough to excuse making his first officer doubt their tentative friendship.

As Spock stepped aside to allow Jim entrance, he thought that it was odd that Uhura thought that he didn't feel. While you had to be looking for it, once you got to know him a little bit better, it was blatantly obvious that his feelings ran deep.

All of a sudden, Jim felt the need to right the wrongs that Uhura had committed, knowing damn well that it wasn't his place. But he couldn't shake the urge to reassure Spock that he knew that he was more than capable of feeling and love. Because Spock needed to know.

A.N.  
I'm sorry that this took so long. I was visiting friends who are back from university - the one good thing about finals means I get to see my friends soon. So, I'm sorry about that. I'm also sorry that this chapter is shorter than usual, but I figured you'd get a massive Spock/Jim conversation chapter next.

Also, Jinny was right. The stylistic choice was from the novelization of _Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith_. It's a really good book, and I do recommend it. I found it highly enjoyable and the writing is really pretty. Thanks for the continued support and reviews guys!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Spock's room was incredibly plain. No, plain was the wrong word. It was just very clean and tidy. It looked like everything had a place and very rarely left it. In fact, if Jim hadn't known that Spock actually lived here, he would have thought that it was an extra, unoccupied room. He supposed that he should have really expected it, but he was still surprised that there weren't any decorations or pictures of his family. Something, anything. The only personal hint of Spock's residence was the shelf that was stuffed with books.

Jim smiled slightly as he looked over the books, but most of them were in Vulcan, so he could only assume that they held some great, logical knowledge that was probably beyond him. And he figured he was okay with that.

Spock stood stiffly by the door, staring at Jim intently as he took in the room. If Jim had been looking at him, he might have noticed that he was shifting his weight back and forth, one of his few indications of frayed nerves. As it was, Jim was too busy soaking in his surroundings to notice.

"Would I be correct in assuming that you require sustenance?" Spock asked, finally breaking the silence that had existed since Jim had entered the room.

Jim started slightly, almost forgetting that Spock was there. Which was odd, because it was his room. He burst out laughing, no real reason behind it. He was too tired for this kind of day. He'd woken up too early, been bored to tears on the bridge, initiated a heart to heart with Uhura, had a headache that wouldn't quit, and now was about to tackle another emotional encounter with his emotionless first officer.

Spock merely looked at him, confusion creeping into his eyes as he raised his eyebrow. "Is everything alright, Jim?"

Jim felt a hitch in his breath when Spock said his name, but he ignored it and focused on controlling his laughter. After a moment, he managed to regain a semblance of his composure and waved his hand in dismissal. "I'm fine, Spock. Yes, I am hungry."

Spock nodded slightly, but didn't really look convinced. However, instead of pursuing it, he gestured toward a table that was all set up with plates and utensils that Jim hadn't noticed off to the side. He went and sat down, surprised at how much care Spock had apparently put into their dinner. Spock sat down across from Jim a moment later.

"I'm sorry I was late," Jim apologized, realizing that he hadn't tried to make amends for getting distracted.

Spock looked up. "You have no need to apologize."

Of course he didn't. Jim sighed and began to analyze what was on his plate. He didn't actually recognize anything and figured that it was probably Vulcan. An instant wariness filled him as he realized that he didn't have any idea what Vulcan food was supposed to taste like or what kind of ingredients they used. Other than the fact that it was undoubtedly vegetarian. He knew that much.

"What is this?" Jim decided the best way to get answers was to ask questions. Plus, Spock might appreciate his effort in trying to understand his culture a little bit better.

"It is an Indian meal," Spock explained. And Jim just nodded. It could also be that. He didn't have much experience in ethnic food, even from Earth. He really was a meat and potatoes kind of guy. "It contains spinach and potatoes."

Jim glanced down at the bowl. Spinach? Well, he would never claim to be a fan, but he supposed he could tolerate it for one evening. He watched Spock, trying to figure out how to eat it as it looked like a soup, but there were only forks on the table. He watched as Spock picked up a fork, cut off a piece of bread and scooped up some of the spinachy stuff. It looked like a lot of work, but he figured Spock wouldn't be horribly offended if he just used his hands.

After taking a bite, he was pleasantly surprised to find that spinach actually could taste good in something. It almost made him regret his lack of exploratory feelings towards food. And the bread? Delicious.

"What is this called?" Jim asked, determined to add it to his list of foods that Bones might actually approve of.

"It is called saag aloo and the bread is naan," he answered in between bites. "While I still prefer the food of my home planet, the replicators on this ship seem incapable of creating even a decent impression."

Jim nodded. The replicators really did seem to have a problem with some of the food requests, although he wasn't entirely sure why. It was probably just one of those small downfalls with technology. It could create food easily and conveniently, but it never tasted quite the way it should.

"Regardless, this is good," Jim said. Stalling. He was stalling, and some subconscious part of him knew it. At this point, he was willing to do almost anything to avoid talking the upcoming conversation. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell Spock, it was more he had no idea how to.

"What occurred between you and my older counterpart?" Jim almost groaned. If the Starfleet thing didn't work out, Spock could always be a mind reader.

But Jim had promised, and despite all the negative things you could say about James T. Kirk, he almost always kept his promises.

Jim thought for a moment, trying to decide where to start. He supposed that Spock didn't really need or want a play-by-play, although, with his Vulcan love of specifics, maybe he did. And saying 'we just talked' seemed to be threadbare and would not be satisfying for his first officer. And it didn't satisfy Jim either. What had transpired between him and the older Spock had been much more than mere conversation, even aside from the mind meld. There had been a connection between them, so effortless, something that he'd never really had with anyone else before and he was pretty sure that he wouldn't have it ever again. Not even with his Spock.

"We talked," Jim started, and paused. It suddenly occurred to him that this conversation was going to be a lot more personal than he had originally thought. He had figured that he'd tell Spock about their conversation, mention the mind meld, and then explain how they met Scotty. But he now knew that the important part hadn't been what was said but the sentiment that had been behind it.

Spock just stared at him, clearly waiting for more details. He knew he wouldn't pry, and he probably wouldn't even ask again, but the strong desire was as clear as if he really had voiced it. Jim didn't blame him. He just didn't know how to tell him, and part of him didn't want to. But as he looked into Spock's dark brown eyes, he realized that he really didn't have much of a choice. He could already see the disappointment shining out of them. A betrayal of sorts. And he knew that he couldn't do that to the half-Vulcan, not even if he wanted to.

"We talked about us, a lot," Jim started, gesturing between them half-heartedly. "He insisted that we were gonna be the best of friends. I didn't really believe him at the time - I mean, you had just marooned me on some godforsaken ice planet - but I guess he wasn't _completely_ wrong." Jim flashed a smile at Spock to show that he was joking. "Then there was the mind meld-"

"He performed a mild meld on you?" Spock interjected. Jim looked up at him in surprise at his tone. He had sounded shocked, worried, and confused all at the same time, which was more emotion than he usually heard from his stoic first officer in a month. Then again, they'd only really been working together for about a month, so maybe this buildup of emotions was normal for Spock.

"Yeah," Jim said, shrugging. He didn't understand why Spock was getting all kinds of upset over it. At the time, it had been necessary. Therefore it had been logical. Spock should really be thrilled. "What's the big deal?"

Spock closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to fight back an outburst that would be undignified. Jim had to suppress his laughter at the very human gesture. Whenever he started to forget that Spock was only half-Vulcan, he went and did something that made him seem like the must human person he knew. Even if it was only for a moment.

"A mind meld is a highly intimate, personal connection between two minds," Spock explained, opening his eyes so that they pierced into Jim's. "It is usually only used between family and very close friends - and even then, rarely. For my older self to have used it on you so flippantly seems to be a complete disregard for Vulcan protocol."

"Yeah, well, I was surprised at first, but afterwards when he kind of explained it-"

"He didn't explain the process to you before initiating the meld?"

Jim sighed. He was getting tired of being cut off every time he explained something. It wasn't very captainly. "No, he was in a bit of a hurry. I think he was as thrown off by me as I was by him. Or...you. Whatever."

Spock didn't even look like he wanted to smile. Instead, it was as if he had completely shut down emotionally. For the first time during the course of their conversation, Jim realized that the older Spock might have done something that really was inappropriate. But it had seemed so natural, so easy...what kind of relationship did he and Spock have in the alternate reality? What could have possibly made them so close that the older Spock would have felt so comfortable initiating such an intimate connection with him?

Jim immediately shut down that line of thought. He didn't care about what happened in that reality. What had happened between the other James T. Kirk and Spock didn't apply to what happened with Jim and his Spock. All that mattered was what was happening now and what would happen tomorrow and for the several tomorrows that followed. Plus, Jim felt as if he had gotten enough influence from a reality that really had nothing to do with what was going on right now.

Jim suddenly was able to understand where Spock was coming from though. It did seem highly unusual for his older self to perform a mind meld on him. At least, right now it did. Jim couldn't imagine that Spock would perform a mind meld on him ever, not even if the rest of the universe depended on it and humanity, Vulcanity, and other-species-anity would suffer an inevitable, horrifying, painful death if the meld was not performed. Yes, it would suck to be the universe in that scenario.

"It was inappropriate for my counterpart to have done such a thing," Spock said, breaking Jim out of his own thoughts of universal impending doom. "I apologize for his -my- actions."

Jim waved off his apology easily. "Think nothing of it. I actually kinda enjoyed it."

It didn't take long for Jim to realize that he'd said the wrong thing. Again. Spock stiffened and, if possible, became even more withdrawn before abruptly standing up to start cleaning up. Jim stood up as well, wanting to help, but the look that Spock shot back at him had him wilting back into his seat in concern and uncertainty. Two hesitant steps forward and three hurtling back. Well, he didn't think that it was going to be easy, but damn, it really couldn't get much harder.

"Spock," Jim decided to try after sitting in silence for a few minutes, just watching Spock's fluid movements around his quarters, "what's wrong?"

Spock turned around and looked like he was truly considering answering in a human fashion, before the Vulcan mask was back. "Nothing is wrong, as you say. I am merely confounded by what I have learned this evening."

Trying a tentative smile, Jim stood up again to walk over to Spock, who was so stiff he looked like a very dour statue. "What's to understand? The mind meld was out of necessity. It did no great harm to me, if any at all. No harm no foul, right?"

Spock looked slightly confused by the saying, but seemed to mentally shrug it off as he didn't ask about it, instead saying, "Maybe not, but he still committed a great crime against your mind."

"How?"

"By invading it without having explained in no uncertain terms the potential negative ramifications that it could have had on your fragile mind. He gave you no-"

"Wait...fragile mind?"

"As a human, your mind is not as strong and therefore is not able to withstand such a demanding intrusion."

"So humans aren't capable of handling a mind meld?"

"In a word, yes."

Jim felt like punching something. Anything. How had this happened? He was just trying to pacify his first officer's innate curiosity and all of a sudden he's being accused of being...well, he wasn't really sure what he was being accused of, but he couldn't imagine that having a 'fragile mind' was a good thing.

"What about your mother?" Jim asked, feeling his temper starting to get the better of him. And somewhere, in the back of his mind, a cruel voice questioned whether or not Uhura had been more correct in her assessment than he had originally wanted to admit. After all, out of all of them, she was the one who knew him best. Perhaps her opinion wasn't without merit. He immediately shook that off though. No, just because Spock was an idiot sometimes and said insensitive things didn't mean that he was incapable of emotion or love.

"She was an exceptional case."

"She was as human as the rest of us," Jim spat back. God, he wanted to punch something. Seeing as Spock was the only thing really available at the moment, Jim decided that it was probably best to restrain this desire. He had not so easily forgotten the half-Vulcan's innate strength.

"Indeed."

Silence.

"Fuck you."

Jim strode out of the room without looking back, not caring about the other man enough to see what kind of reaction he would get. Was it professional? Not by a long shot. Was it the smartest move? Considering the alternative, yes. If he'd stayed in that room, one of them would have ended up dead. And it wasn't going to be Jim.

Jim walked around for a minute before remembering that his room was right next to Spock's. Which meant that he had walked all the way to the turbolift for no reason. Sighing, he turned around and retraced his steps.

The closer he got to his room, the more he regretted his somewhat harsh words. As much as he hated to admit it, vulgar language didn't solve as much as he would have liked. Sure, it felt good at the moment, but in hindsight, it had probably done more damage than good. And despite all of that, he still found that he craved the other man's friendship, whether he cared about him right now or not. Which meant he had to go back and apologize.

Even if Spock should apologize first.

Jim groaned. He was so damn tired of apologizing for everything. Even things that weren't his fault (like this). Why was it his responsibility?

Oh yeah...he was the captain.

And to be fair, Spock didn't speak with the intent to harm. He was just being Spock. Logical, detached, tactless Spock. He had probably just thought that he was stating a fact-an inaccurate fact-but a act nonetheless. It wasn't even a real insult, if he thought about it. Jim just had a lot of pride, which, upon reflection, seemed to be getting him into trouble as of late. But had the comment really been necessary? Fragile minds..._really_? Well, he'd show him fragile mind.

Without realizing it, he'd stopped outside of Spock's door. Jim groaned again, and knocked on the door roughly before he could change his mind. Seconds later, the door slid open, Spock standing stiffly. He seemed genuinely surprised to see Jim before carefully schooling his expression back into it's typical stoicism.

"I'm sorry," Jim snapped and winced at his own tone. He supposed that it wouldn't be too hard to employ some amount of sincerity. "Really, I am. I was _slightly _out of line. Do you play chess?"

Spock didn't look like he knew how to react. Which was part of Jim's goal. As a fragile minded human, he certainly couldn't possibly have any coherent line of thought. And he was counting on it to befuddle his logical first officer to no end.

"No apology is necessary," Spock said, looking down in what Jim was going to classify as embarrassment. "I, too, was, as you say, 'out of line'. I forgot that your fragile ego could not handle such-"

"Fragile ego?" Jim interrupted, his anger already rising again. He was too stressed for this. He was getting angrier than he normally would and with greater ease. He should have known that coming back to talk to Spock. Bones would say it was bad for his blood pressure. Jim wouldn't disagree.

But Spock stopped talking, seeming to understand that he'd said the wrong thing. Again. Jim was torn between storming away and dealing with it later and staying to see what other mildly offensive things Spock might accidently say.

"I apologize, again, Jim. I did not mean-"

"Do you play chess?" Jim repeated with more insistence. He just wanted to forget any of this had happened. Spock would say he played chess and Jim would smile, say 'excellent' in his most maniacal voice and he would demand that they play a game and Spock would lose. Spock would lose badly. And if he didn't play...well, Spock would still lose, he'd just have to teach him first. Either way, Spock was going to be defeated by a fragile minded human with a fragile ego and he was gonna like it.

Yep, Jim was definitely delirious. But he didn't care. He was too angry and tired to care. Except about Spock. He still cared about Spock. That's why he had to beat him in a mind game. To prove that he was worthy. To earn his respect. To be a person who could challenge him.

"I do play chess," Spock said, a slight incline to his head. Jim took it to be his Vulcan modesty, but the unsaid words lingered in the air: _I play chess and I am fucking brilliant at it. _

"So do I," Jim said, and without really making a conscious decision to do so, he marched into Spock's quarters and sat down, looking back at him expectantly. "Let's do it."

Spock hesitated for a moment before moving over to grab his chess board and started to set it up before sitting down across from Jim. Jim was suddenly struck by the idea that he hadn't played chess for years. He looked over the board with a sweeping eye, a quick reminder of how to each piece moved. This was going to be easy. They sat there for a couple of seconds, Spock looking at Jim expectantly.

Oh.

That's right. White goes first.

Jim randomly picked up a piece and moved it. Spock followed suit after thinking for a few seconds.

The game continued like that for a couple of minutes, Jim moving a piece with no apparent motive and Spock moving methodically and logically. Every once in a while, Spock would hesitate and a flash of doubt would flash through his eyes, not being able to comprehend his human companion's method.

"So, Spock," Jim said after a while of silence. "I don't really know much about you."

Spock raised one eyebrow before moving his queen. Jim suppressed a smile. That was what he'd been hoping Spock would do. If things went his way, he could win the game in five moves. He moved his knight.

"What would you like to know?"

"I don't know. Do you have any childhood memories worth sharing?"

Spock didn't answer at first and Jim had a distinct feeling that he had brought up one of Spock's least favorite subjects. Regardless, Spock seemed like he was going to answer the question.

"I have no memories worth remembering, no," he finally said, moving his queen again. It was the logical move and Jim had expected him to do it. Grinning slightly, he moved his knight again, pleased at his fairly unstoppable setup. He had known that his lack of coherent moves would pay off someday. After all, a person can't win by logic alone.

Although, he should have realized that a person couldn't win by sheer chaos either as Spock moved his king in a manner that made Jim want to throw it at him. This would take some rethinking.

"Oh come on," Jim pressed, "I'm sure you have some good memories."

Spock shook his head slightly and raised his eyebrow in bemusement as Jim moved a pawn. "No, as a child I was an outcast, not belonging with the Vulcan children due to my human half. It did not matter that I was their mental equal, I was always excluded."

Jim was surprised. He hadn't thought that Vulcans were capable of blatant discrimination. It was illogical.

"That doesn't make any sense," Jim snapped, a new anger filling him. There were few things that infuriated Jim like discrimination.

Spock, who had just moved his rook looked up in surprise. "I assure you, Jim, that move is perfectly logical."

"No, Spock, I mean, yes. That move is logical." Ugh. Why did he even bother? Although, that move did make his job slightly easier and he moved his queen into a potentially fatal position. "I meant the blatant discrimination. It's illogical. How did they justify that?"

"I do not believe they ever tried to justify it," Spock replied, making his move. Damn, Spock was harder to beat than he had originally thought. Oh well, his plan for defeat could still be executed in one move, he'd just have to modify.

Jim just sighed. "I guess everyone needs their scapegoat," he said sadly.

"Indeed. Check."

Jim looked at the board intently before breaking into a large, cocky smile as he moved his bishop.

"Checkmate."

A.N.  
So I forgot that I'm horrible at writing conversations. I'm still really nervous that Spock and Jim keep on drifting in and out of character. If you guys sense anything blatantly out of character, tell me and I'll try my best to fix it. I'm sorry about the delay. This was a harder chapter to write than I thought it would be. Thanks to those of you who keep on reviewing. You really brighten up my day guys!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Jim was ready to beam to the planet. The landing party, which consisted of him, Bones, and Spock, was ready to beam down to the planet. The Organians were ready to meet them. Everything was looking good and Jim had every reason to optimistically believe that they might actually emerge from this mission unscathed. Which would definitely be a drastic change from the usual.

"Ready Bones?" he asked, turning to face the doctor. He just glared at him and Jim bit back a snide comment about his fear of beaming. He would be nice to his CMO just this once. He looked at Spock expectantly, for some odd reason expecting an unprompted response, even if he had never gotten one before. He only waited a moment before concluding that said response wasn't coming.

Jim sighed. "Are you ready?"

"Indeed, Captain. I have been for 3.5 minutes. It is your conversation with Mr. Scott that has delayed us."

Jim rolled his eyes but decided to not take the bait. "Alright then, energize."

The last thing he saw was Scotty's grinning face as he vanished, only to reappear on an alien planet moments later. He gazed around, checking to make sure that both Bones and Spock had arrived safely. As much as he knew that beaming was perfectly safe, some part of Bones's endless rants stuck in his mind, causing an unnecessary and unwanted worry. Once he assessed that they were all fine, he turned to face the approaching man.

"Welcome to Organia," a tall, regal human man said, stepping forward with a respectful incline to his head. "I am Ayelborne, one of the members of the Council of the Elders."

Jim nodded in acknowledgment. "I am Captain Kirk of the USS Enterprise. This is my first officer Commander Spock and my Chief Medical Officer, Leonard McCoy," Jim said, gesturing to each of the men as he introduced them.

Ayelborne nodded to each of them in welcome and then turned to head towards the building that was behind him. "Follow me," he instructed, "I will show you to your temporary quarters."

Bones raised his eyebrow at Jim, who, in turn, was equally confused. They had not planned on staying on planet during the course of their negotiations. In fact, Jim had been hoping that they would be able to come to an understanding in the course of one day. Apparently the Organians had a different idea. Meanwhile, Ayelborne was talking about the current condition of the planet. Jim realized with a subtle start that he had completely missed most of what he had been saying, but judging by Bones's bored expression, he hadn't missed much.

In a lull in the conversation, Jim burst in, "We weren't planning on staying overnight on planet, actually."

The Organian looked back at him and raised his eyebrows. "We had planned on you staying for dinner and we decided that it was better for you to remain here after the affair. We were only thinking about your convenience. If we were mistaken, we will gladly rectify the problem."

Jim shook his head quickly, suddenly feeling like an asshole. It would be rude to decline after they had apparently put so much effort into their arrangements. "No," he replied hastily, "I was just confused, there's no problem."

Ayelborne nodded and pushed open the door that led to their temporary quarters. He quickly walked through the hall, pointing out various rooms as he went. At last, after climbing a couple flights of stairs, he gestured to three rooms. Jim panted slightly and came to the conclusion that he might be more out of shape than he would ever want to admit. Maybe Bones had a point about his diet. Perhaps he should try to eat better.

"These will be your rooms," Ayelborne said softly. "There are other people on this floor, so please be respectful to our other guests."

Jim nodded his consent, as did Bones and Spock. Part of him was offended that the Organian thought that they would cause any disruptions, but he decided to not worry about it. They had bigger issues that needed to be addressed.

"Where are the negotiations taking place?" Jim asked, noting the unpleasant twist to Ayelborne's face. It was then that he realized that they weren't looking forward to diplomacy anymore than he was. Or perhaps it was directed at Jim's lack of tact. Well, he figured it was best to get it over and done with.

"I will take you there now," Ayelborne responded, smoothing his features back into a calm mask. Jim was momentarily reminded of his first officer, but he shoved that analogy back to a corner in his mind. "The Council of the Elders is waiting for you."

~*00*~

Jim wasn't entirely sure what had happened at the negotiations, but he did learn that he rarely had a reason to feel optimistic about anything. Ever. No matter how simple the mission originally seemed, something always went wrong or added a complication that had no right or reason to exist.

This is what Jim currently knew though.

1.) The Organians still believed in general neutrality. They had no real desire to join the Federation as they believed that it would cause more general bad than good. No matter how many logical arguments both he and Spock tried and despite the loud, emotional outbursts from Bones, the Council of Elders had politely refused their offer. Repeatedly.

2.) The Klingons had become restless and therefore violent. They seemed to be on the verge of invading Organia and were going out of their way to cause trouble with the Federation. Whether or not it had been intentional timing, Jim couldn't really be sure and he didn't really care. All that mattered was that their supposedly peaceful negotiations had a decent chance of escalating into some kind of violent conflict.

3.) Diplomacy gave Jim a headache. Always had, always will.

Jim groaned as he collapsed against his bed in his temporary quarters. They had been given a brief reprieve in between the negotiations and dinner, so Jim had decided that he should probably attempt to get rid of his headache. He wanted to be at least partially pleasant for dinner. Bones had probably gone off to his own quarters as well and Jim was pretty sure he'd heard Spock mutter something about exploration. There was a decent chance that his mind had just made that up, though.

He had known that coming here would be a waste of time. And while he could understand the Federation's desires to gain Organia as an ally, he couldn't see why they were so persistent. Organia sought neutrality from both the Federation and the Klingons. While it was unnerving to have them so close to the Klingon border, Jim couldn't see the harm in just letting them be.

And now they were in a potentially dangerous situation. He didn't really want to subject his crew to a Klingon attack, especially because it was so unnecessary. If he could have it his way, they'd leave right now, send Starfleet a message: _Sorry, we did our best, but they're some pretty damn stubborn bastards, _and then readily accept their new mission. However, they were still caught in the diplomatic cycle of 'playing nice' with the super intelligent beings.

Sometimes Jim couldn't help but wonder what the point of being a captain was. He still didn't get to do what he wanted, even if he felt it was right, he still had to get approval to do anything slightly out of the ordinary, and he still had to partake in diplomatic functions, despite what his instincts were telling him. Seriously, being a captain was useless. Except for when it wasn't, which kind of made up for when it was.

_Still_, Jim thought as he massaged his aching temple, _being a captain sometimes has more downsides than not._

There was a knock on his door and Jim sat up, wincing slightly as the room began to spin. Yep, he had definitely sat up too fast. "Come in," Jim called out, cradling his head in his hands. He looked up when the door opened to admit Bones.

"We should probably...are you alright?" Bones asked, taking in Jim's bedraggled appearance and crouched down beside him. Pulling out his tricorder, he began to scan the captain. Jim looked up at him with a disgruntled expression no his face.

"I'm fine, Bones," Jim insisted, pushing his friend's hands away. Bones looked at him skeptically. "Really, I just have a headache."

The next thing he knew, Bones stuck a hypo into his neck and depressed it with a soft _whoosh_. Jim glared at him. Where did he keep his hypos? He didn't carry around a case of them as far as he could tell... He must keep one in his pocket for the sole purpose of tormenting Jim. He sighed. At this point, it really wouldn't surprise him. "What was that?" he asked with an accusing tone.

"Relax," Bones answered, turning to head towards the door, "it was only a pain killer. Geeze, you can get into bar fights and take punches without flinching but you can't handle a tiny prick from a hypo."

Jim glared at him, but as he felt his headache lessen, his glare started to fade as well. Well, McCoy might be a sneaky bastard, but there was no doubts that he was a damn good doctor. "What do you want, anyway?" he asked, deliberately sounding irritated just to be ornery.

"We need to head down to dinner," McCoy explained. "Where's the computerized robot?"

Jim raised his eyebrows at the new insult, but simply shrugged. Computerized robot? Well, it's not like he hadn't thought it at one point or another. "I don't know," he answered and stood up to follow his friend. "He'll probably meet us there."

Bones just nodded, clearly pleased with himself for inserting his new Spock-insult. Jim chuckled to himself slightly. For all of their bickering, there didn't seem to be any real animosity between the two of them. But then again, Jim was more perceptive of individuals, not so much relationships. He decided that Spock's and Bones's friendship, although he used the term loosely, was probably best left in their hands and left unanalyzed.

Sure enough, when the arrived in the room where the dinner was to be held, Spock was already standing in the entrance of the room, waiting for Jim and McCoy. When he saw them, he raised his eyebrow slightly and followed them to their seats. The Organians were already seated and Jim smiled at Ayelborne before taking his seat across from the solemn men, Spock sitting down at his left and Bones at his right.

It wasn't long before food was served and they began to eat, small talk falling amongst the table. The Organian's intelligence was more than apparent and Jim couldn't help but feel like the information that he'd gotten from Starfleet regarding this species was a drastic understatement. Claymare, one of the Council members, was especially intelligent, and made no secret of it. Most of the time, Jim felt like he was showing off his vast mental superiority to his first officer, and more than a few times during their conversation, Jim had noticed Spock stiffening at what he probably perceived as his own mental failings. Jim made a mental note to reassure his first officer that not every species could obtain an infinite knowledge of everything after they completed this mission. Plus, if Spock were any more brilliant, Jim had a feeling that he would be even more insufferable than he already had a tendency to be.

"Your species physiology is remarkably similar to that of humans," Bones said during a lull in the conversation. His tone suggested that this had been something that had been on his mind for a while.

Claymare inclined his head slightly and said, "This is not our true form, Doctor."

Jim looked up sharply, slightly confused. If that wasn't the Organians' true form then what was? And how did they manage to change forms? Were they some kind of shape shifters or maybe they were part chameleon?

Part-chameleon? Really? That was ridiculous. This entire situation was ridiculous. Jim felt his flight instinct kick in again but he suppressed it. However, he was going to send Starfleet a strongly worded letter outlining how they needed to give more details about what they would be facing in upcoming missions. Jim was getting tired of these surprises.

"We are so intellectually evolved that we have, in a sense, transcended our physical bodies," Ayelborne explained, noting the confusion that was present on all three of the officers' faces.

"They are unnecessary, but we do attempt to take the form of whichever species is visiting us. It is less disconcerting for our visitors and it is no real trouble for us," Claymare continued.

"So you're shape shifters?" Bones persisted. Leave it to him to demand the simplest explanation.

"In the barest sense, yes," agreed Ayelborne.

Jim nodded, comprehending what the Organians were saying, but an air of confusion remained. He suspected that his confusion stemmed from a lack of experience with this particular species, or any species even remotely like them. Being able to transcend his physical body didn't sound particularly appealing or necessary. Then again, if he lived as long as they did, he would probably get bored with his physical form as well. Although he suspected that it had absolutely nothing to do with boredom.

The rest of the conversation followed without incidence or surprise. Jim wasn't surprised, as the Organians seemed to be a very private people. Before long, the plates were cleared away and the three men excused themselves from the table. Jim was determined to leave as early as possible the next morning, the bad feeling in his gut having increased over the short amount of time they had spent on the planet.

The three men walked up to their rooms and bid each other goodnight tiredly. Jim walked into his room and collapsed on his bed. He was so exhausted that he barely managed to pull his boots off before he succumbed to a deep sleep.

_"Spock, come with me," Jim urged, shaking his first officer awake. Spock's eyes snapped open and darted around before resting on Jim. _

_"Has something happened?" he asked, his voice sounding muffled as he pushed himself up on the bed. He blinked a couple of times to adjust to the darkness of the rooms and began to fumble around for his boots. He seemed very disoriented for a Vulcan. _

_"Yes," Jim whispered, turning to give him some privacy, "it's an emergency, you must come with me." _

_Spock straightened up, finally appearing like his normal self. Jim reached over and grabbed Spock's wrist, pulling him towards the door in haste. Spock raised his eyebrow in confusion but allowed himself to be yanked around. _

_"What is the emergency, Jim?" _

_"I can't tell you yet. We have to wait until we're somewhere they can't hear us." _

_Spock looked like he might protest, but before he could say anything, Jim opened a door and shoved him down the stairs that were behind it. _

_"Jim, what-"_

Jim awoke with a start, breathing heavily. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. That dream had seemed so real, as if it had been happening. But it wasn't possible, because he was this Jim Kirk, in bed, not the Kirk who had dragged his first officer out of bed for an emergency. He had to go find Spock. He had to make sure he was okay.

When he was pulling on his boots, he realized how ridiculous he was being. It was just a dream. There was nothing to worry about. Dreams didn't mean anything. He had absolutely no reason to be concerned.

But he was still going to check. He didn't care whether or not he looked like a fool. He cared way more about Spock than he did his pride. Plus, there wasn't a chance in hell he'd be able to go back to sleep unless he made sure he was okay.

Grumbling slightly under his breath about how ridiculous he was being, he stumbled towards his door and down the hall to where Spock's temporary quarters was. At least he would have something to laugh about later with Bones. He was sure that his friend would get a kick out of his midnight panic.

"Spock," Jim called out softly as he knocked on his door. He didn't want to disturb the other people in the surrounding rooms, and he knew that Spock was a very light sleeper. He probably woke up the second Jim left his room because of the quiet creak in the floor.

He waited for a minute impatiently, straining his ears for any sign that Spock was moving around. He knocked again, this time with a little more urgency. "Spock, it's me, Jim," he called out again. "Let me in."

He waited another minute before the worry began to creep back. Spock was far too efficient to have not already answered and he didn't believe for a minute that Spock would have slept through his knocking. Something was wrong.

He pushed at the door and found that it opened without a problem. Spock never left his door unlocked. Jim entered the room quietly and looked around. The bed was unoccupied and unmade. Spock never left his bed unmade. Something was terribly wrong.

Desperately, Jim tore through the room, just in case Spock was meditating under his bed or fell asleep in the shower. He was willing to believe anything at this point, as long as it led to the recovery of his first officer. But he came up empty.

Jim stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. He needed to take a moment to relax, to not panic. He was the captain for a reason and he needed to employ his levelheaded attitude now. Panicking wasn't going to bring Spock back and he needed to think of the correct course of action. And also an answer to the question why. What was the motivation in taking Spock?

"Bones," Jim called into his communicator. "Bones, Kirk to Bones."

"Goddammit Jim, this better be an emergency," his voice came over the communicator a moment later, sounding drowsy.

"Spock has gone missing, Bones," Jim replied, and was disappointed to note that his voice still had a frenzied tone.

"What in hell are you talking about?"

"Bones, just meet me in my room," Jim snapped, and cut the communication before his friend could respond. He knew that he would come, albeit he wouldn't be happy about it. Jim didn't care. He was far too unsettled by his dream to even consider any alternatives to Spock's current location.

Jim headed back to his own room and only had to wait a couple of minutes before Bones burst into his room, mumbling under his breath about idiotic captains who can't keep track of their first officers. Which Jim didn't think was entirely fair. He hadn't lost Spock, he just had no idea where he was. Or if he was okay.

"What's this nonsense about Spock missing?" Bones muttered, collapsing in a chair across from Jim. He clearly didn't think that this was anything to be worried about.

"I checked his room and he wasn't there."

Bones looked at him expectantly, clearly expecting a better reason for being forced out of his bed in the middle of the night. "And...?"

"Well, he wasn't there," Jim repeated, as if it were obvious. If Spock wasn't there, that meant he was somewhere else. And that somewhere else, according to Jim's gut feeling, was dangerous for the half-Vulcan.

Bones just sighed. "That green-blooded hobgoblin is probably just gathering data or something."

"No, you don't understand, I had a dream," Jim said lamely, knowing that it sounded even more ridiculous out loud than it had sounded in his head. "Spock was tricked into following me somewhere...but it wasn't me."

McCoy was looking at him as if he'd very much like to drug him with some kind of sedative. He knew that he sounded crazy, but the dream had just seemed so real. He couldn't just dismiss it, especially with the mounting evidence: unlocked door, unmade bed, missing Spock. Sure, it wasn't concrete evidence, but Jim knew Spock better than that. There were some things that Spock just _did_, probably without even realizing that he was doing it. Plus, Spock would probably find it illogical to wander around at night, knowing about the rising hostilities between the Organians and the Klingons. Especially since Jim had explicitly warned Spock and Bones to be on their toes. Not that Spock had likely understood the euphemism, but he still didn't think Spock would wander off in the middle of the night.

"Jim," Bones began, "it was just a dream. If you need something to help you sleep-"

"No, I just need to find my first officer, preferably in one piece and breathing."

Bones looked like he was going to start protesting again, but something in Jim's tone must have convinced him that something really was wrong because he stood up with a sigh and headed towards the door. "Dammit Jim, let's go. Pointy-eared bastard can't be too far."

Jim smiled slightly and followed him. Bones was a good friend, despite his cynical disposition and constant complaints. They would find Spock who would probably just be analyzing the landscape or something and he would be fine, Bones would complain loudly, and they would all go back to bed and laugh about it later. Well, Jim would laugh about it later. Spock didn't laugh, and Bones had lost too much sleep to ever view the incident with humor.

What a shame things weren't ever that easy.

A.N.  
Thanks for the continued support guys. I just wanted to see if there was anything that anybody wanted to see happen or if anyone had any suggestions. Anything? Thanks for reading guys!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

This is what it's like to be Spock.

You open your eyes slowly, painfully and are surprised when you are met with pitch black. You wait for a moment, trying to adjust to the darkness when you realize it's not the room. It's your eyes.

A flash of panic overwhelms you before you manage to push past it. You first have to ascertain your current physical condition. At the thought, though, a wave of irrational fear strikes you, almost as if it were a physical blow. The fear clutches to your heart, as it beats wildly out of control in terror. You push past it, but now the fear takes hold of your lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

You're choking on your own fear.

And for one, very brief, un-Vulcan-like moment, you wonder why, _why me? _You don't really believe that the universe is out to get you, but sometimes it certainly seems that way. But you know better. The universe doesn't care about you one way or the other. Whether you live or whether you die, the universe simply cannot be bothered. It's a disconcerting thought that only adds to your thinly veiled panic.

No, you're stronger than this, better than this. So you reign in your overwhelming emotions and lock them away, as you have been taught to do. This frees you to use your other senses to determine where you are, approximately, and what exactly has happened.

You shift slightly and are stunned by the shot of pain that goes up your side. You know you shouldn't be surprised, as the Klingons are notorious for their creative torture methods. If only you could remember what happened. But you know that you passed out shortly after being chained from the sheer pain of...

Of what?

Oh...that's right. The memory comes rushing back with a vengeance and you brace yourself against the onslaught of your own mind. Jim woke you up, but it hadn't been Jim. And you should have known that. But you didn't, so you had followed him. It hadn't taken long for the Klingons to overpower you, efficiently chaining you. Then there was a knife, cutting into your flesh, dragging across your chest, your arms, your hands, your face, a trail of bright green blood emerging as a cold blade carved into your body.

You've lost a significant amount of blood. It makes you feel disoriented, weak. In your weakness, you feel a strong desire for Jim to be here. You want...no, you _need _him right now, and not just for the inevitable rescue. Over the past few days, his presence has become a comfort to you, even as your mind tells you that Vulcans don't feel comfort.

Your mind lies to you. It usually does with matters of the heart.

Part of you doesn't understand the Klingons motivations. This isn't typical behavior for Klingons. They tend to kill first and ask questions later. The fact that you are still alive is, in itself, something of a miracle. Even if you don't believe in miracles.

They don't want you dead, they want you dying. And they have succeeded.

Without your sight, you are useless. Without your emotional control, you will never be welcome back on the Vulcan colony. Without Jim, you know, somewhere in the heart that you so often deny, that you will have lost any hope for the one friendship that is supposed to define you.

You'll have nothing. You'll _be _nothing.

As it is, all you can do now is wait. Wait for a rescue that might not happen. Wait for a death that might be desired. Wait for something to change, anything to change, for better or worse. And for once in your life, you find it nearly impossible to wait.

But you don't have a choice, so you'll wait, drowning in your thoughts, suffocating from your emotions, and bleeding from your wounds.

Waiting for a death that will never come.

~*00*~

Jim and McCoy had searched just about everywhere and had seen no sign of the half-Vulcan. By the time they went back to Spock's room, just to see if he'd come back on his own, the sun was starting to come up. Jim figured that this was probably for the best, as he had a sneaking suspicion that one of the Organians was behind this.

After all, they were capable of shape shifting. Wouldn't that mean that they would be able to take the form of whoever they wanted? To be honest, Jim wasn't entirely sure that this was how shape shifting worked, but right now it was the only clue that he had to this mystery. Someone had tricked his first officer into following a fake James T. Kirk. Which meant that someone had to be capable of taking his form with such precision that it could fool an overly observant Vulcan.

But that didn't explain the dream.

Jim sighed and decided to stop thinking about it. Potentially false accusations weren't going to help him find his first officer. "We should contact Scotty and see if he can find his signal," Jim sighed, feeling despair in the pit of his stomach. He pushed it away though and watched as Bones opened his communicator to make the call.

Scotty answered almost instantly and Bones quickly relayed the request. They only had to wait a few seconds before Scotty's response came over the comm. "Sorry, I can't find his signal anywhere."

Bones thanked Scotty and cut the transmission, turning to look at Jim expectantly. Jim turned away from him, not wanting to see the worry in his friend's eyes. If Bones was worried, odds were that the situation was pretty bad. It took a lot for Bones to worry about the seemingly indestructible first officer.

"Come on," Jim said, standing up. "We should look for one of the council members. Maybe they'll be able to help us."

Bones nodded, and stood up, following him out of the room and down the stairs. Jim hardly noticed, plagued by his own thoughts. Spock had been missing for too long. Anything could have happened to him.

Jim's pace quickened, as a newfound sense of worry overcame him. Spock could be hurt, he could be broken. He could be dying.

Jim tried not to think about it. The thought of any of his crew dying was terrifying to him. As a captain, he was responsible for the well being of every single person on the _Enterprise_. While they hadn't undertaken too many missions, they had already faced a few casualties. Each death had struck Jim like a sharp blow, and he regretted that he didn't know every single one of his crew members personally. He knew that, with 400 crew members on board, it was more or less impossible, but he still felt like he should have a connection with the people who were serving under him. Especially if he was continually asking them to put their lives on the line. Jim felt a wave of guilt at the thought.

No one likes asking someone to die for them.

Jim saw a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye and he looked up to see Ayelborne.

"Ayelborne," Jim called out as he saw the Organian walking down the hall in the same direction that they were headed. The urge to yell out accusations swelled up again, but Jim bit them back. He wanted answers, not more problems. The Organian turned to look at him, and for an instance, Jim would have sworn that he'd seen guilt flash across his face.

"Captain," he greeted, coming to a stop and spreading his hands in a welcoming gesture. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Actually, there is," Jim responded, his sneaking suspicion deepening when he noticed that Ayelborne seemed nervous. "Sometime during the night, my first officer went missing. We have searched for him and attempted to find his signal, yet as far as we can tell, he has vanished."

No, there it was again. The guilty expression had taken up permanent residence in Ayelborne's eyes. This hadn't been an accident, this had been carefully planned and executed. Whatever the motivation, the Organians had taken part in the disappearance of Spock, Jim was sure. With any luck, they would confess and then Jim could go about retrieving his friend without any further problems. Next to him, Bones stiffened. Jim could only assume that he too had noticed the man's odd behavior.

Ayelborne hesitated before shaking his head and turning away from the two Starfleet officers. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," he muttered. "I am sorry."

Jim felt anger overwhelm him, an anger so strong that he felt like he understood what Spock had to have felt that one day on the bridge when he had been emotionally compromised. All he could see is red, the red of the man's blood running cold on the floor. The red of a fiery inferno that could destroy them all. And Jim didn't care. He just wanted his first officer back, and this man, this _being_, was responsible for a long, sleepless night of panic and worry. James T. Kirk didn't panic or worry and those who induced those kind of emotions _deserved_ to be on the receiving end of his wrath.

"Where is Mr. Spock," Jim growled, his hand inching subconsciously to his phaser. He knew that Bones was looking at him with something similar to surprise. He knew that whatever drastic measures that Jim was about to take would be incredibly detrimental to their attempts at diplomacy, but Jim didn't think he would stop him. At least he hoped Bones wouldn't stop him.

"You already know where he is, Captain," Ayelborne responded calmly. He seemed unfazed at the amount of anger that Jim knew he was exuding. It was taking every fiber of his being to not lunge at the Organian man. He couldn't explain this anger, this surge of protectiveness towards Spock, but he was going to blame it on a lack of sleep. He and Bones had spent the entire searching for the man and had both only gotten about an hour of sleep. It was understandable that he was not completely in control of his emotional outbursts. "You have been given what you need to find him, all that you must do is retrieve him."

That was it. Jim didn't have the time or patience to deal with his cryptic hints. He pulled out his phaser, ready to stun the man, but was surprised when it would not fire. Instead, Ayelborne looked at him sadly before a bright light temporarily blinded Jim. He blinked and closed his eyes, surprised to find that the Organian was emanating the light. He supposed that he shouldn't be really surprised at this point. Moments later, the Organian was gone, vanished into the flash of light.

"Sheer energy?" Bones asked beside him. Jim turned to look at him and noted his dumbstruck expression. "They transcended a physical form for sheer energy?"

"It looks like it," Jim responded, equally stunned. He hadn't expected the species to have vanishing tricks. He supposed it was for the best, seeing as he had just been about to do something ridiculously stupid. It still didn't help them find Spock, though.

"What the hell did he mean?" Bones asked, still staring at the spot where the man had once been. "How are we supposed to find him?"

Jim shrugged and started to walk again, his pace taking a slightly frenzied state. None of this made sense. The Organians were supposed to be a peaceful people. It wasn't in their nature to instigate violence or to interfere. This entire situation was completely out of character for them. Something else was happening here, but he didn't have all the pieces to the puzzle yet. All he could see was a convoluted conundrum. And it was giving him a headache.

"Wait," Bones said, stopping mid-stride. Jim stopped as well, turning to look at him. "You said you saw where they led him in your dream."

Jim almost groaned, realizing that his friend was right. He did know where the other Kirk had led Spock in his dream. Or at least the general area. He felt like kicking himself. If they were relying on a dream, he would have to pay attention to the details. That should have been the first place they'd checked. By now, it was quite possible that Spock had already been moved elsewhere.

Regardless, it was best to check, just to make sure. Which meant that they had to go back to Spock's room so that Jim could attempt to retrace the path from his dream. It shouldn't be so hard as it was currently engraved in his memory.

Frustrated, Jim turned back to head towards Spock's room, fairly storming about. Bones followed him, passive in comparison. Each minute that they spent wandering around aimlessly brought Spock closer to...well, Jim wasn't really sure what was happening to his first officer, but he was willing to guess that it wasn't pleasant. Now if only he could find the damn door that his dream self had led Spock through.

"What do you suppose this building is for?" Jim asked Bones, hoping that conversation would take the edge off of his worry. Bones looked at him and shrugged.

"I'm not sure. At first I thought it was a hotel of some sort, but I haven't seen anyone here but the Organian elders."

Jim nodded. "Nothing here makes sense. Wouldn't Starfleet have been alerted to any illegal Klingon activity? And if they had, shouldn't they have warned us?"

"I guess since Organia isn't actually a member of the Federation, it's not considered illegal activity." Bones gave Jim a measuring look. "Do you think the Klingons are behind Spock's disappearance?"

Jim shrugged. "The Organians are a peaceful people, that much I learned from the negotiations. It's not in their nature to interfere in anyone else's business. I don't see what they have to gain from taking Spock."

"Christ, Jim," Bones exclaimed. "Ayelborne all but confessed that he had taken him. What other proof do you need?"

"I'm not denying that they took part in it, but why?" Jim shook his head, not finding a good answer and knowing that he wouldn't get one. Suddenly he came to a halt in front of a door. He was pretty sure that this was the door that Spock had been dragged through in his dream. Bones stopped as well and looked at him expectantly. Pushing the door open slowly, Jim wasn't entirely surprised to find that there was only a staircase behind it. This was the room then and gesturing to McCoy to follow him, both men slowly walked down the stairs, each of them silently hoping for the best, yet still expecting the worse.

~*00*~

This is what it's like to be James T. Kirk.

Horrified. Terrified. Infuriated. Helpless. You're assaulted by your emotions, one after the other, colliding into each other so you can't differentiate one from the other to make sense of it. You want revenge. Revenge on the Organians, the Klingons, the whole damn universe. Someone has to pay for this, someone has to suffer the way you know Spock has suffered. Damn morals to hell, it doesn't matter.

But it does, and your inner captain is yelling at you, trying to remind you about its importance.

And in the end, the inner captain wins because it has to and you manage to calm your lust for enemy blood. Revenge isn't the answer, and you know this. Right now, it doesn't even matter. Right now, all that matters is Spock.

The rest of the world fades as you rush over to Spock's side, hesitating before gently tracing a cut on his cheek. His blood, bright green blood, stains his clothing. There's so much of it. Spock moves his head slightly into your touch and you almost cry for the relief that overcomes you. Dark brown eyes blink open and look up at you. And you're so happy that you could kiss someone.

But it is a short-lived joy.

"He's blind, Jim," you hear McCoy whisper from somewhere to your right.

Your heart constricts and you forget what it is to breathe. Spock can't be blind. McCoy is lying. He's lying and all you want to do is lash out at him, stop his endless stream of falsities. Perhaps he senses this because he stands up, muttering, "We have to get him to the _Enterprise_. He's lost a lot of blood."

You nod and your brief anger towards the doctor ebbs away, leaving a numb shell in its stead. Carefully, you and McCoy lift Spock to his feet and he sways. Spock never sways. He is always certain in his step and stable in his demeanor. You feel a pang of regret shoot through you as if being shot by a phaser. The pain of seeing the first officer like this is far greater than it ever has been when faced with the corpses of good men.

This isn't a nameless crew member. This is Spock.

You feel a wave of guilt. No life is worth more than another. Spock's life is no more important than the ones that have already been claimed on past missions. But it is to you. And you can't help how you feel, even if you know you shouldn't feel that way. Oh well, you'll think about your blatant favoritism later. Right now, Spock is all but whimpering from the pain as you and McCoy attempt to move him from the dank room.

He shouldn't be walking, you decide, so you stop.

"It'll be alright," you whisper, pulling your friend into a tight embrace and he stiffens. You tighten your grasp slightly, not caring enough to loosen your hold and caring too much to let go.

For a moment, you're struck by how right he feels in your arms. How he kind of just fits.

But it means nothing, and you know it. So you ignore it and lift him easily into your arms, mindful of his many wounds. Everything will be alright, because it has to be. You don't know what you'll do without Spock's logic to balance out your irrationality. So you save him for your sake as well as his. And you figure that motivation doesn't matter as long as the end result is the same.

And as you and McCoy leave the room and beam onto the _Enterprise_, you're struck by a thought. Only the universe would be so cruel as to attempt to take away one of the few people that you actually care about. But you're not going to let the universe win. You have too much to lose, and someday, the universe will learn to stop fucking with Captain James T. Kirk.

You just hope that no more lives have to be sacrificed in the process.

A.N.  
I hope you guys are enjoying this thus far. I am not particularly fond of this chapter, but it does what it's supposed to, I guess. I've decided that Bones is hard to keep in character too. Haha, so they're all hard to write. So thanks for reviewing, it means a lot. Once again, I extend the invitation to point out any horrible flaws so that I may attempt to fix them. Thanks guys!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

This is what Jim had learned from the Organians since recovering his first officer. The Klingons had been threatening violence against the Organians for months now. They were attempting to get an ally, and they were willing to do so by force. Not that it was entirely surprising. They had occupied Organia for the past month, and though the Organians could have forced them out with their superior mental abilities, they had decided that the Klingons weren't really doing any harm. Plus, it would be interfering.

However, the rules of the game had changed as soon as the Klingons had found out that the _Enterprise _was visiting Organia on a diplomatic mission. Even more than an ally, the Klingons had wanted something to use against the Federation. Hence, the abduction of Spock. They had promised the Organians to leave the planet peacefully for the exchange of the first officer from the _Enterprise_. While Jim thought that it was a fool's agreement and one that the Klingons probably wouldn't follow up on, he could understand the appeal to the Council of the Elders. All they wanted was peace, and here was an easy way to obtain it without going against their beliefs. So they had readily agreed, grateful to avoid any potential violence. What the Klingons hadn't counted on was a super intelligent species who had the telekinetic ability to alter any plans that involved wrongdoing.

The night that they had stayed on the planet, Ayelborne had taken the guise of Jim and had lured Spock out of bed and to the place where he would be held. However, he hadn't meant for any harm to come to Spock. It was the reason behind Jim's dream. It had seemed so real because it had been real. He was attempting to warn Jim, to give him a clue as to where Spock was. He hadn't foreseen the amount of violence that the Klingons would use against the half-Vulcan. As it was, the Organian council insisted that they had been able to prevent most of the damage that the Klingons had attempted to inflict upon him.

While Jim would never approve of the Organians using his first officer as a bargaining tool, he had to admit that their plan was, for the most part, foolproof. Except for the part where Spock actually got hurt. That was unacceptable and unforgivable. And the fact that Jim couldn't think of a time when he had been more worried about someone put him in a particularly foul mood. Their intentions had been good, but Jim was still relieved to be leaving the planet. This was technically a failed mission, but he figured that Starfleet would agree with him when he told them that some things simply weren't worth it. Almost losing his first officer, even if it was a setup and Spock had technically been safe, was definitely a price Jim wasn't willing to pay.

Jim sighed, sitting in his chair on the bridge. He glanced around and smiled to himself. He was glad to be back, even if he had only been gone for about a day. It seemed like ages since he had been sitting on the bridge, anxious for an exciting mission. He supposed it had something to do with the frenzied state of panic that he had almost entered back on Organia. Currently, they were on their way back to Earth. The _Enterprise _was now to be used as a cargo vessel as they transported necessary goods to the New Vulcan colony. Jim couldn't say that he disagreed with the decision. With his first officer out of commission for an indefinite period of time, possibly forever, he just wanted to partake in some relaxing missions.

Speaking of Spock, he hadn't gone down to the Sickbay to see him yet today. Jim glanced around the bridge and noticed that everything seemed to be calm, almost to the point where a few of his officers seemed to be on the verge of dozing off. He couldn't blame them. He was still exhausted, having not found a decent time to take a nap. Well, now seemed as good as ever. His shift was over in about half an hour anyway. He couldn't imagine anyone would protest his leaving early.

"Sulu, you have the conn," Jim said, standing up abruptly and heading towards the turbolift. Behind him he could hear Sulu acknowledge with an "Aye, Sir".

Jim smiled slightly, and closed his eyes, grateful for every moment that he had to himself. As much as he enjoyed being around other people, sometimes he just needed a few minutes to just breathe.

The moment was short lived as the turbolift came to a halt and the door slid open. Jim stepped out and quickly made his way to the Sickbay. He had a feeling that Bones would be a bit frustrated with him as he had given him specific orders to settle matters on Organia and then come straight to see him. Jim had not, deciding that it was more important to resume duty as if nothing had happened. That, and he wasn't particularly looking forward to his date with Bones's hypo.

"Goddammit, Jim, where the hell have you been?" Bones snapped when he looked up and saw Jim entering.

"You know," Jim responding, flashing a cocky smile at his friend, "battling Klingons, saving the universe, all the while maintaining my devilishly good looks."

He received a glare for his efforts. "How do you feel?" he asked as he scanned Jim's body with a tricorder. Jim didn't really see why it was necessary. After all, he hadn't participated in any form of violence and he knew that the only blood on him was green. There was no way Bones could mistake it for his. All in all, another pointless trip to the sickbay.

"I feel fantastic," Jim said, breaking into a wide yawn. "Although, I could do with a ten year nap."

"That's not a nap," Bones snapped incredulously, pushing Jim onto a nearby bed. "That's a coma."

Jim just shrugged and allowed Bones to poke him in a doctorly fashion, occasionally shooting disgruntled looks at him. "Then I want to take a ten year coma."

Bones didn't respond, at least not to him, but Jim could hear him grumbling under his breath. He was pretty sure that he heard something about 'reckless captains' and 'ridiculous ideas'. McCoy turned to look for something on his counter, presumably a hypo. Jim watched him warily, ready to dive out of the way if he needed to.

"How's Spock?" Jim finally asked, the real reason he had come here in the first place. He was dreading the answer, still remembering the condition that Spock had been in when they'd first found him. The fact that he'd seen his friend's injuries made him doubt the Organians claim that he wasn't truly that hurt. Jim begged to differ.

Bones looked over at Jim, his face suddenly lined with exhaustion. It reminded Jim that the doctor hadn't gotten any more sleep than he had and by now he was probably running on empty. But his face didn't carry the look of someone who was about to deliver bad news, so he decided to take that as a good sign.

"It's remarkable," he said, his tone suggesting that he didn't completely believe what he was about to tell Jim. "There was actually very little damage, despite the amount of blood loss. He has a pretty bad cut on his chest that came pretty close to some vital organs, but it was easy to fix. There'll be a pretty nasty scar though. Also, there is some nerve damage in his hands, but it's nothing that can't be fixed. And, there's a cut on his cheek, but it's not really worth mentioning other than it'll leave a scar too. I don't know what those Organians did, but it quite possibly saved his life."

Jim nodded, relieved to hear it. Maybe they hadn't lied after all. He had no idea how they had done it, but he suddenly regretted the harsh words he had exchanged with the Council of the Elders. "What about his vision?" he asked, dreading the answer. He knew that if Spock were blind, he wouldn't be able to serve in Starfleet anymore.

However, at his question, an honest-to-God smile lit up Bones's face. "It's only temporary," he explained. "From the readings, it looks like they drugged him with something that had an adverse reaction to his unique genetic makeup. Had he been anyone else, it probably would have just knocked him out for an extended period of time."

Jim looked slightly confused, but nodded anyway. As long as his first officer would be alright, he didn't care about the minor details. "How long is he going to be blind?" he asked.

Bones thought about it for a minute. "I'm not sure," he confessed. "I've never seen this kind of reaction to a drug before, but I can't imagine that it'll be more than a week. Which is just as well. Green blooded hobgoblin was already trying to sneak out and return to duty. Stubborn fool."

"As I have said, Doctor, I am perfectly fit to return to duty," a calm voice called out from the other room.

"Damn Vulcan hearing," Bones muttered. Jim smiled at the slow return to normalcy and, with a wave of dismissal from Bones, walked into the other room to see his friend.

"Hey Spock," Jim greeted, smiling at his friend. Spock turned his head towards the sound and Jim felt a pang at the reminder that he was blind. But it was only temporary, so it was okay. He was going to view this as a character building experience. He looked him over quickly, noting the bandages wrapped around his hands. He would have to ask Bones how long it would be until the nerve damage was healed. "How are you feeling?"

"While I have not yet regained my sight, I do feel capable of performing my duties and request to return to the bridge."

Jim smiled slightly and sat down in the chair next to the bed. "And what, Mr. Spock, do you plan on doing without your sight?" he asked, a gentle teasing tone in his voice. He wanted to point out that, until he was able to see again, there really wasn't much for him to do, but he also wanted to do so with tact. Teasing a man for undergoing an unpleasant ordeal wasn't generally considered appropriate.

Spock paused as he contemplated this point and seemed to conclude that it had logical merit. "Indeed, Captain. You might be correct."

"Can you tell me what happened at Organia, Spock?" Jim asked softly. He hadn't meant to ask, as he wanted to give his first officer time to rest and come to terms with it, but he had heard the Organians' side, and now he wanted to hear Spock's.

Spock hesitated, briefly before shaking his head slightly, as if trying to shake his memory from his mind. "I was deceived, Captain. The Organian, I am assuming, took your form and urged me to follow him. My memory contains blank intervals after this point." He paused again, this time trying to remember what had happened. "I was chained and then tortured."

"Did you feel it?" He knew he wasn't being sensitive, but he was genuinely confused at how drastic the difference between the perceived injury and actual injury actually was.

"I was unconscious during much of the event," Spock confessed, "however, when I awoke I found myself in severe pain that now seems unfounded." Silence fell between the two men, both of them trying to understand how this was possible. Spock continued after a moment, "I believe that my injuries, for the most part, were a mere illusion, a mental configuration from the Organians. I do believe they hoped to deter the Klingons from causing too much, if any, irreparable damage."

"Then the pain was an illusion as well?"

"I believe so, for the most part."

Jim nodded, realizing moments later that Spock couldn't see. The Organians' story so far matched up with what Spock had just told him. "I guess Ayelborne said as much," he told Spock, leaving the unsaid words between them: _but I didn't believe him. _Yeah, he probably owed all of the council members an apology. He quite possible had overreacted. But next time they shouldn't use a living, breathing person as a bargaining device.

"Well, this just goes to show that things are rarely as bad as they seem," Jim said, trying to look at the situation optimistically. He knew they were a fool's words, seeing as he had temporarily succumbed to pessimism when he'd first seen Spock, but there was no need for him to know that. He also knew that the pain had been very real for his first officer and that this entire event would probably lead to even more emotional instability. Jim almost groaned. It wasn't that he didn't want to support his friend, but he was running out of motivational, reassuring speeches.

"Perhaps," Spock muttered and then completely changed the topic. "I request to be released from the sickbay."

Jim laughed shortly before clamping his mouth shut. Oops. "Sorry, Spock. It's just, Bones is never going to let you go unless you have a reason so legitimate it has a birth certificate."

"I require solitude," Spock replied stiffly, ignoring his attempt at humor.

"Why?" Jim pressed. If he was going to put his neck on the line by asking Bones to release Spock, there was going to be a damn good reason.

"I cannot meditate here," the man said softly after a beat, sounding almost ashamed. Jim felt an unusual tug at his heart as he witnessed the more vulnerable side of Spock. He never would have thought that the words 'vulnerable' and 'Spock' could go together. Spock _had _gone through something fairly stressful, even if the extent of the physical damage had been far less than had been anticipated. It was probably a mental thing that he just needed to sort out on his own. However, convincing Bones that Spock was well enough to return to his own quarters would be fairly tricky.

A soft sound at the door caused Jim to look up. He saw Uhura hovering by the door uncertainly. She was looking at Spock with a sympathetic frown on her face. Apparently she was nervous, as she was wringing her hands together and her eyebrows were drawn together. It was obvious that she wanted to speak to Spock alone, and if Jim was right, the conversation would be awkward and difficult for both of them.

"I'll talk to Bones about it," Jim promised, standing up to leave, nodding to Uhura in acknowledgment.

"Bones," Jim called out, knocking on his office door before entering. He was sitting behind his desk, an alcoholic beverage in hand. Jim smiled at the comforting feeling that this sight presented and sat down across from him. "You should let Spock stay in his own quarters while he recovers."

Bones raised his eyebrow and shook his head in mock anger. "Who's the doctor here, me or you?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Is there anything wrong with him, minus the blindness?"

"His hands are still healing -"

"They're wrapped and healing without any supervision from you," Jim pointed out.

"And the cut on his chest -"

"You've healed that already, although I've heard that 'there'll be a pretty nasty scar'." Jim was asking to get either sedated or beat up, he didn't know which. He could already tell that Bones's temper was about to snap.

"Blindness seems to be pretty serious on its own then," Bones snapped. "I can't run to Spock's quarters to attend to his every whim. And, whether he likes it or not, the damned hobgoblin is going to need some assistance."

Jim grinned and sat back in his chair, taking a deliberately calm demeanor. He knew it would piss Bones off even more than he already was. "I don't know if you've met Spock," Jim said flippantly, "but he's pretty self-sufficient."

"Not enough to function blindly," Bones grumbled back, but Jim could tell that he had finally broken through most of his arguments. "And I don't have time to check in on him."

Jim shrugged. "I'll do it then."

Bones raised his eyebrow again, clearly not a fan of the idea. "You are aware that, as captain of this ship, you have your own damn responsibilities, right?"

Jim shrugged again. "We aren't doing anything that requires my direct supervision for a while, just transporting cargo from one side of the galaxy to the other. I won't be needed on the bridge as much, and it'll give me an excuse to avoid doing paperwork."

Bones gave him a measuring look, still skeptical. Jim could understand why Bones would be slightly concerned about leaving Spock in his care. After all, he was barely capable of keeping himself alive and out of trouble. Plus, Bones had witnessed firsthand his inability to keep pets alive. He could imagine that all of this was going through his mind, so he decided to interject before his idea was rejected. "Come on, Bones, Spock isn't a goldfish. He has a lot greater chance of surviving in my care than the fish did."

If anything, Bones's expression became even more doubtful. Maybe he hadn't been thinking about that after all. Jim mentally cursed himself and was about to just give up when Bones nodded. "Alright," he said with a defeated tone. "He can continue the rest of his healing process in his own quarters. But," this was accompanied with a threatening, but very motherly, finger shake, "you will check up on him at least once an hour, and I will also check up on him twice a day. Understood?"

Jim nodded and stood up. He knew that Bones meant it too, and that if he didn't follow through on his end of the agreement, he would find his next physical to be increasingly invasive and thorough.

He left Bones's office and went back into the room where Spock was in, pausing at the door to make sure that he wasn't interrupting anything. He could hear Uhura's whispered tone, but nothing distinct. He figured that meant he could interrupt safely. Or maybe it meant the opposite...oh well. He'd find out momentarily.

With that he walked into the room, a massive shit-eating grin on his face. "Well, you're free to go," Jim said. Uhura shot him a slightly displeased look, but Spock seemed relieved. Well, at least his facial twitches seemed relieved. Jim wasn't entirely sure, but he was going to assume that was the case.

Spock sat up and Jim hesitated, wondering how much Spock really was capable of doing whilst blind. So he stood tensely, ready to leap forward to grab him if he fell over or to lead him away from anything he might run into. However, Spock seemed to manage fairly well on his own. Until Jim looked away for one second and he ran into the counter.

Jim and Uhura both rushed to his side but he warded them both off with slightly frantic arm gestures. His cheeks were both shaded with a splotchy green. Jim almost chuckled. He was blushing! Instead, he straightened his posture again and began to walk towards the door. Jim hovered beside him, determined to not let any more harm befall the half-Vulcan. He knew that Spock could sense his overbearing presence and that he was probably frustrated with him for it, but Jim figured that unless he would admit to being frustrated (a very human emotion), he would continue hovering.

"Bye Bones," Jim called out, as they made their way towards the door.

"Wait a minute," Bones said, coming out his office and turning to the half-Vulcan."I don't want you wandering around your own. I don't need you falling and hitting your head, or re-damaging your hands," The look of disapproval was still fixed on his face, but he also seemed to be resigned to the agreement he had made with Jim.

"Doctor, while you might be incapable of maintaining your balance, I assure you that I will have no trouble maintaining my own composure, even with my current disposition."

"Goddamn stubborn green blooded hobgoblin computerized robot bastard-"

Jim quickly grabbed Spock's arm and pulled him out of the Sickbay before Bones could change his mind, leaving both Uhura and Bones behind them. Once they were in the hallway, Jim let go of his arm and began walking towards the turbolift, keeping a watchful eye on Spock as he fell into step beside him. Jim was impressed. He hadn't thought that a person could manage so well without their eyesight. He figured it was probably because Spock had such good hearing, but he could have been making that up.

It was really interesting to Jim, because, if he hadn't known that Spock was blind, he never would have guessed it. He still carried himself with grace and poise, he still managed to condescend the hell out of the people around him just with his demeanor, and he had a fairly good sense of where things were.

CRASH.

Except people, apparently.

Jim almost sighed, surprised that he hadn't seen it coming. It was an ensign who had been reading a datapad and was walking too fast. He hadn't been looking where he was going, and Spock obviously couldn't be held accountable for not being able to dodge things he couldn't see. And now his first officer and the ensign were in a tangled mess on the ground.

"Sorry Captain, Commander," the young man said, standing up hastily. He kept on glancing at Spock out of the corner of this eye. Jim figured he was wondering why the usually efficient first officer hadn't found a way to avoid the collision. Especially because he hated being touched.

As far as Jim knew, details about what occurred on Organia were limited to a need to know basis and Spock's injuries were definitely not necessary information. There were only a few people who knew the extent of what Spock went through during his brief captivity.

"As you were, Ensign," Jim responded as captainly as he could manage, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. The young man hurried off, clearly embarrassed. Jim knelt down and grabbed Spock's upper arm, pulling the man carefully to his feet. Again, his cheeks were flushed with a greenish tinge and Jim felt a wave of sympathy wash through him. Spock pulled his arm away and resumed his walk to the turbolift, this time standing a bit closer to Jim, who had quickly followed. Jim could only assume that this meant that standing closer to Jim was preferable to falling again.

He decided to take it as a compliment.

"Okay, so the deal was, I get to be your personal maid until you get your vision back," Jim said, turning to Spock when they entered the turbolift.

Spock raised his eyebrow but nodded in acknowledgment. He clearly was displeased with this, but seemed to know better than to argue. "If you insist, Captain."

He wasn't sure why, but somewhere along the way, Spock had reverted back to calling him captain. 'Captain' didn't sound nearly as good coming from his mouth as 'Jim' did. He would have to remedy this. "It's Jim, Spock," he reminded him gently. "And it wasn't my idea, it was Bones's. It was the only way to get him to release you."

Spock nodded and took a hasty step out of the turbolift as the doors opened. For a moment, it looked like he was about to stumble, but he quickly regained his composure. He was probably doing it out of spite, Jim figured. No one could be that good at navigating right after losing their sight.

The two men fell into step with each other easily as they made their way to Spock's quarters. Jim decided that it was probably best to get Spock situated and then leave him to his own devices. He would check back in with him after a little while and bring him something to eat.

They passed Jim's room and came to a halt outside of Spock's room. Jim punched in the captain's override code and stepped aside to let him enter his own quarters.

"Is there anything you need right now?" Jim asked, watching as Spock carefully made his way around his room, his bandaged hands gently brushing against the furniture. He was probably trying to memorize the layout of his room so he wouldn't have to depend on anyone. Hopefully he wouldn't accidently do more damage to his hands, like Bones had suggested. Then again, Spock seemed to know what he was doing. Jim hadn't been lying when he had said that Spock was self-sufficient.

"There is nothing I require at the moment, Jim," Spock replied, turning towards where he thought Jim should be. A twinge of joy filled Jim at the sound of his name, but he ignored it.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it then," Jim said and turned to head towards his own quarters. Let the ten year coma commence.

A.N.  
Haha, you guys have no faith in my ability to be nice to the characters. Haha, just kidding. I'm going to take this moment to point out that I have almost no knowledge of Star Trek TOS. I have only seen a couple of the episodes, so almost anything that happens is a pure coincidence (minus the Organian episode - I watched that). I have done research, but on characters and species, not events. I'm sorry if this disappoints anyone, I really am trying to watch them...there are just a lot. And I'm trying to remain as canon as possible. Thanks for the continued support and reviews guys. Like always, it means a lot to me.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Trying to take care of Spock was like taking care of an emotionally stunted, stoic puppy. He wanted to do what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it, injuries be damned. Most of the time, he just wanted to be left alone to do things on his own, even though it was illogical. There simply wasn't a lot that Spock could do without his vision, although to be fair, he was a lot more competent than most humans would be if suddenly blinded. Either way, Jim found that being around a semi-helpless, but ridiculously stubborn half-Vulcan was just another form of personal hell.

And there was nothing he could do about it because he had _promised. _Well, he had learned his lesson. There was a reason that Bones had given in to Jim's request. He _knew_. He _knew_ what it was like to have Spock as a medical patient. He _knew_ that it was almost impossible to get him to comply with reasonable requests when he was incapacitated with injuries. He _knew_ that Jim would hate being forced to cajole, beg, and threaten Spock to get him to do what was best for his health. It had all been part of his sick, sadistic plan.

All that Jim knew was that if Spock didn't stop being an infant (damn, did he just _quote_ Bones?), someone was going to end up dead, and it was probably going to be McCoy for agreeing with this plan to begin with.

Jim sighed for what had to have been the millionth time that day. It had been four days since they had left Organia and Spock had been temporarily blinded. The upside was that he finally was able to use his hands again, although that just seemed to give him more determination to be completely independent. Jim admired Spock for his determination, he really did, he just didn't understand how in the world the logical man managed to justify it to himself. It was simply illogical to insist upon doing things on his own knowing full well that it would probably lead to an increased chance of injury and a decreased likelihood of success.

Jim had spent a decent portion of the past few days arguing with Spock, which essentially amounted to him yelling about how stupid he was being and Spock calmly trying to back up his lunatic desires. Jim almost turned around to head back to the bridge just thinking about it instead of continuing to Spock's room.

Spock, let me help you type that up. Spock, are you sure you don't need help setting up the chess board. Spock, you can't read that on your own, you're blind. Spock, I'm not incapable of using a replicator, what do you want - no, I know Vulcans don't want things - but what do you want to eat? Spock, you need to take your pain medications, I don't care about your damned Vulcan control. Spock, if you run into one more wall, Bones is gonna kill me.

Yep, every conversation, without fail, disintegrated into something of that nature. He could only hope that Bones had this kind of trouble when he checked up on him. Although Jim had a distinct feeling that Spock was especially troublesome just for him. Damned emotionless Vulcan.

Oh...wait, sorry. Spock _had_ emotions, he just repressed the shit out of them.

Jim sighed and punched in the entry code to Spock's room, waiting for it to slide open. When he entered, he found that Spock was sitting on the floor, appearing to be in meditation. A twinge of guilt made Jim pause and he considered backing out of the room. But he knew that it was useless. Any sound - any at all- would have already disturbed him. They had already covered this on the first day. Jim had accidentally walked in on Spock meditating and instead of doing his best to remain quiet, he had gone about business per usual. Needless to say, Spock hadn't been very happy with him.

"Spock," Jim said softly, noting that he seemed to already be regaining consciousness. He walked over to his bed and sat down, watching the other man carefully. He had spent a lot of time meditating and more often than not Jim seemed to interrupt him. Not that it was his fault and not that he usually enjoyed it, it was just how things had to be until he regained his eyesight.

"Captain," Spock said softly, tilting his head slightly as if trying to find Jim based on any sound he might make. Jim knew it was kind of cruel, but it had became a kind of game with him. He would do his absolute best to make no sounds, breathing as shallowly as possible and sitting stock still. He almost never won, but sometimes it would take Spock a few minutes to find him. There had been one time when he had been able to convince him that he wasn't in the room and he had jumped out at him, making all kinds of loud noises. The reaction had been hilarious: Spock had jumped and took a rapid step backward running into his desk and causing things on his desk to fall to the floor. The guilt that had followed was not so great: Spock looked at Jim, an almost hurt expression dancing across his face and his posture quickly regained its stiff composure. That had been a very tense day.

It didn't take long for Spock to find him and he turned to face the bed, still sitting on the floor. They both sat in silence for a moment before Jim's growling stomach decided to make itself known.

"Are you hungry, Spock?" Jim asked, moving over to the replicator and going through some of the selections.

Spock paused for a moment and then nodded. "I do require sustenance at this time," he said, pulling himself to his feet and began to walk slowly towards where the replicator was.

"No, Spock," Jim said firmly as Spock reached him. He gently gave the man a push towards the table. "I've got this. Go sit down and I'll bring it over."

"Captain, I am more than capable of working a replicator. I am blind, not an invalid."

Jim ground his teeth and bit back a sarcastic response. It had been too long a day for him to want to argue with Spock tonight. Although they were just transporting goods, it required a lot more supervision than he had originally anticipated. Jim had to make sure that the goods were in fine order, brush up on various cultures so as to not cause an intergalactic scandal, and make sure that his crew was doing what they were supposed to be doing. All the while checking in on Spock once an hour.

"Just go sit, Spock," Jim snapped. Surprisingly, Spock complied, albeit reluctantly. It only took a moment for the food to be prepared and he carried it over to the table, sitting down across from Spock. This had become their nightly occurrence, and Jim found that, despite everything, he would miss it once Spock regained his sight. Although, he could easily say that this was the one of the _only_ things he'd miss.

As they ate, Jim explained what was happening on the bridge, keeping Spock up to speed. Yes, they were still a few days away from their destination. No, they weren't behind schedule. Yes, everything was ready and prepared, they just had to get there. Of course Jim knew the proper way to greet them. No, the _Enterprise _hadn't spiraled out of control in Spock's absence.

That was the progression of their conversation and it didn't take them long to finish their meal. Immediately, Jim began to clean up, knowing that if he didn't, Spock would attempt to and then he would probably either make a mess or somehow break something and cut himself. Either way, it was simply easier for him take responsibility for it.

As he cleaned, Spock had resumed his position on the floor, taking his meditative stance. Jim knew that the second he left, Spock would fall into a deep meditative trance. It almost made Jim want to leave him in peace. But then, that would be drastically out of character for him. Instead he smiled and thought of something that he had once learned when he was a child. Palm reading. It would definitely be something to entertain both of them, even if Spock would probably be uncomfortable and Jim didn't believe in anything involving anything psychics. Regardless, it would be something to do that didn't involve Jim having to guide, commentate, or argue with Spock.

"Give me your hand," Jim said suddenly, sitting down in front of Spock on the floor. He looked in the direction of Jim's voice and raised one of his eyebrows. It was a rather odd request, in hindsight, but Jim didn't care.

"For what point or purpose?" he asked, and Jim thought that he became even more withdrawn, if possible. There had been a definite stiffening, though.

"Just because," Jim responded and reached out and grabbed his left wrist, knowing that he wouldn't be able to anticipate the move. For a moment he felt bad for taking advantage of Spock's blindness, but he decided that he wasn't really doing anything bad. He was just bored and he figured that this was as good a way as any to kill time.

Spock's pulse beneath Jim's fingers seemed unusually fast and for a second, he was worried that something was wrong with him. Then he remembered that a Vulcan's heart rate was faster than a human's. Turning his attention to his hand, he flipped it over revealing his recently healed palm. There were small scars, but they were already faded, and Jim momentarily wondered just what the Klingons had done to his first officer. Something flashed across Spock's face, reminding Jim that he was a touch telepath so he decided to focus on something else.

Instead, he began to analyze his hand. Spock was statuesque in his stiffness and Jim figured that he was fighting every instinct to not pull away. He smiled slightly, noting the various lines that he knew had some kind of psychic worth. At one point in time, Jim had known what they had meant, and if he concentrated hard enough, he could probably still remember. His mom had gone through a stage where she had spent a lot of time studying the supernatural and Jim had somehow gotten roped into it as well. It was quite possible that this was where his hatred for all things regarding knowledge of the future came from.

However, he still could remember some things that his mother had taught him. His eyes raked over the lines on his first officer's hands and wondered if it was the same for Vulcans. Not that he put a lot of faith in it to begin with, but if he was going to partake in palm reading, he might as well do it right. Glancing up at Spock's tense face, he could tell that he was confused.

Gently, he ran his finger up the length of Spock's middle finger. A tremor went through the half-Vulcan's body and he weakly attempted to pull his hand away. Jim kept a tight hold in it though, marveling over how soft the man's hands were. It was probably because they'd spent the last few days wrapped in bandages. He then returned his attention to his palm, ghosting the tip of his finger over the lines. They had names, but he all he could remember was the life line and the fate line. Luckily for Spock, he still had a fairly good grasp about what they meant.

"Okay, so your life line is telling me that you don't jump into relationships," Jim began, keeping his voice low so as to not startle Spock. "You like to be cautious and take things extremely slow."

"I do not understand, Jim," Spock said, his voice equally quiet. There was a slight waver to his voice, but Jim was willing to dismiss that as a figment of his imagination.

"It's palm reading," Jim explained, tracing another line in his hand and smiling when he noticed Spock shiver. "It's supposed to reveal your true personality and shit."

"That is illogical. If you want to know something, it would be wiser and more accurate to simply ask."

Jim laughed slightly. "I do ask, and you never answer. Sometimes a person has to take drastic measures to find out what he wants." He looked back down at the palm in his grasp and attempted to recall what the fate line was supposed to say about a person, other than the obvious. "Your fate line is telling me that you have created your own destiny and that any success that you have now was obtained by your own means." Jim nodded, satisfied with his interpretation of his first officer's hand. All in all, it seemed fairly accurate. He knew that there were other things to read, but he couldn't really remember anything else.

"This is true," Spock agreed, inclining his head in some form of defeat. He clearly hadn't been expecting any accuracy at all. "However, it is quite probable that you already knew this, judging both from my file and your personal experiences with me."

It was true. Palm reading hadn't really revealed anything new or exciting about Spock. Most of it was really self-explanatory. Damn he wished he could remember what the other lines meant. Maybe they held deep secrets that his first officer would never reveal on his own. Probably not, but the small chance made him wish that he had focused more on his mother's random phases. Jim thought about it, wracking his mind for a memory that was most likely unrecoverable. There was something about...a heart line? It came rushing back in a moment of clarity. That had been his mother's favorite line and she had pointed it out to Jim several times, laughing as she did so.

_"Oh, Jimmy," she chuckled, running her finger over the lines on his palm. A nine year old Jim looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to tell him what was so amusing. "Your heart line says that you will have a string of meaningless relationships and will have trouble with commitment." _

_"What does that mean?" Jim asked, confusion evident on his young face. His mom leant down and kissed him on the forehead, causing him to outwardly protest her affection while inwardly absorbing it._

_"It means that I'll get to keep your heart that much longer," she responded fondly before closing her book and standing up to leave and fix dinner. Jim glanced down at his hand, wanting to see what she saw. All he could see were lines, etched every which way in his skin, making no sense. She saw his heart and somehow knew what lay in its future, even if they both knew who it belonged to in their present. _

Jim smiled almost sadly at the memory before he returned his gaze back to Spock. He seemed to realize that there was a change in the air around them and Jim felt guilty about that. It was supposed to be a carefree event between the two of them, not an emotional outpouring from ancient memories. Spock carefully pulled his hand away from Jim, who let it fall from his grasp easily.

"What do your hands say about your personality?" Spock asked, trying to clear the awkwardness from the air. Jim glanced up at him and felt a rush of affection for the man. At least he seemed to be trying again, and it was encouraging.

"I don't know," Jim responded honestly. "You're not supposed to analyze your own hand. It ruins the validity or something."

Not that there was any particular validity to begin with, but Jim didn't really want to admit that Spock would probably be disappointed by what he found out about Jim.

"As I am currently incapable of observing your hands, I think it would be preferable for you to analyze them yourself."

Jim nodded to himself. It wasn't entirely fair for him to insist upon reading Spock's palms and then not do so himself in return. So he sighed and brought his own palm up to his face, running his finger over the lines that somehow held a deeper meaning. Jim rolled his eyes in frustration. Whoever came up with this must have been the best scam artist of their time. Possibly the best con artist of _all_ time.

"Well," he began, glaring slightly at his palm for what it was trying to tell him. "My life line insists that I have a lot of energy, I think. It's kind of boring in comparison actually." Spock said nothing, but Jim could tell from his shift in posture that he disagreed. "My fate line says that I have my family's support. Well, I guess that's true. The last time I checked, my mom still supported me. I haven't talked to my brother in a while though."

Jim sighed softly. It had been a while since he had talked to either his mom or his brother, Sam. After he had enlisted in Starfleet, it had just been difficult for him to keep in constant contact with them. Not to mention the years hadn't done much for their relationship as a happy family. Between their step-father, the divorce, the string of men, and Jim's less than stellar track record, the Kirk family had become the epitome of dysfunction.

"What does the heart line say?" Spock asked, breaking into Jim's regretful thoughts. Jim was almost surprised at how invested Spock seemed to be in this conversation.

Jim started and looked over at his friend before glancing back down on his hand, expecting to see the same thing that he'd seen all those years ago after his first palm reading with his mom. Instead, the line had changed, forming into a longer, curvy line. He hadn't thought that it was actually possible for the lines on a person's hand to change, but here was the proof, etched into his own hand. "I suppose it means that I am free in my emotional expressions and do so in mass amounts. Crazy."

Spock raised his eyebrow. "Why is this 'crazy'?"

Jim chuckled slightly. "It didn't use to say that. It's just weird to me I guess." Spock looked at him for a minute as if expecting more, but Jim wasn't particularly in the mood to supply anymore information. So Spock carefully pulled himself to his feet and stood there, waiting for Jim to join him. Next time, they would just play chess. Even if Jim would have to narrate the entire game, it was still better than delving into the home life that he had left behind.

The door opened suddenly and Jim turned around to see Bones carrying a tricorder. He nodded at him before moving over to Spock, quickly scanning the man.

"Anything changed today?" Bones asked, reading the findings on the tricorder, already knowing the answer. He knew that if anything had changed, Jim would have instantly called him.

"Negative, Doctor," Spock replied, feeling around for his bed to sit down.

"Have you eaten, yet?" he asked, shooting a disgruntled look at Jim. He knew that Bones didn't trust his eating habit and of course expected Jim to corrupt Spock's as well. Jim knew that this was crazy. There wasn't a force in the universe that could corrupt Spock, not even one as stubborn and charming as Jim.

"Of course, Doctor."

Bones sighed and seemed to give up, turning to the door. He was exhausted, it was written all over his face.

"Are you gonna be alright for the rest of the evening?" Jim asked, walking backward as he followed Bones.

"While I do not know how I could manage without you, I believe I will be fine. I think I will retire," Spock replied dryly. Jim chuckled at his attempt at humor and followed his friend out the door.

Once the door closed, Jim leaned against it, feeling incredibly drained. He couldn't wait until Spock had his vision back. Then they would be able to hang out like usual without both trying to establish some kind of dominance over each other.

"So how much longer until he can see again?" Jim asked, even sounding exhausted.

"Maybe three days," Bones responded, a small smile lighting up his face.

Damn. That was definitely three days too long.

A.N.  
Okay, so I have some questions for my Star Trek TOS fans. I know that Spock has a half-brother and I was curious about their relationship. Were they close...or as close as Vulcans can be? Also, what was their father's relationship with them both? It doesn't have anything to do with the story, but I am curious. Also, is there an episode or movie or something that has a vampire-like species?

Anyway, I appreciate answers and your continued support. Sorry that this took a while to get out. I'm trying to decide if I want to give them another mission or if I want to put them on shore leave. Either way, the next chapter shouldn't take as long. Anyway, thanks for the continued reviews! As always, feel free to complain and tell me when I'm doing horrible things.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Jim needed a drink. After the past few days, he figured it was totally justified too. And seeing as Bones always needed a drink, or at least always wanted one, he decided to extend the offer to his good friend. As expected, Bones accepted the request and they headed to Bones's quarters to partake in an evening of drunken confessions and fun instead of simply calling it a day and going to sleep.

They arrived at Bones's quarters and Jim sat down, closing his eyes and relished in the temporary peace and quiet. He was still a bit disconcerted about the memories that had resurfaced just a few minutes ago back in Spock's quarters during their palm reading extravaganza. He hadn't ever felt so much regret towards the state of his family as he had now.

"So what were you and the pointy eared bastard doing?" Bones asked, setting a glass down in front of Jim before taking a swig of his own drink.

Jim took a quick gulp and then said, "I was teaching him the fine art of palm reading."

Bones looked at him for a moment before bursting into loud laughter. "You were trying to teach a being who spends his entire life living by logic palm reading, one of the most illogical practices known to exist?" Bones almost choked on his drink as he continued laughing. Jim let him, realizing that it probably was a really ridiculous idea. Well, it wasn't like he'd expected Spock to believe in it. Not even Jim believed in that kind of garbage. But still, every once in a while, it was fun to speculate.

"How did it go?" Bones asked, still chortling. Jim could tell that he already had an image in his head of the entire event.

"I read his palm and then-"

"Wait," Bones interjected, giving Jim the his patented you-should-really-be-locked-away-in-a-mental-institution look, "you read his palm?"

"Yeah," Jim nodded, a thoughtful expression coming over his face as he took another sip of his drink. "He has really soft hands...it's interesting."

This time Bones really did choke on his beverage. After a moment of coughing and swearing, he glared at Jim. "I'm not drunk enough for this. What do you mean his hands are soft?"

Jim shrugged, amused at his friend's flustered reaction. "What I said. He has soft hands."

Bones opened his mouth a couple of times, trying to find the right words, looking for all the world like a very confused goldfish. "Are you out of your damn mind!" he finally settled on, looking like he already knew the answer to the question. It was Jim, of course he was out of his mind.

However, Jim seemed confused about the sudden outburst. Bones had absolutely no reason to be upset with him. What he chose to do with his first officer was his concern, no matter how bad that sounded. "What's wrong?" he decided to ask reasonably. It would be best to settle this matter diplomatically.

Bones was shaking his head and took another long drink. "Vulcans kiss with their hands," he explained, looking up to gauge his reaction. And Jim was sure it must have been a doozy of a reaction too. He felt himself become flushed and knew that there was no way in hell he could blame it on the alcohol. He was also almost positive that, at the same time, he became a sickly pale, even if he was sure that it was impossible to flush and blanch at the same time. He was also aware that his mouth had taken to moving with no sounds coming out other than an occasional 'oh'.

"They kiss?" Jim asked quietly, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. "Like 'you're hot, let's make out' kiss? With their hands?"

Bones just nodded, an almost smug, satisfied smile on his face. Damn, this was all part of his plan. He didn't know how, but Bones had known that something like this would happen. He had just been waiting for this moment since Jim had taken control of the _Enterprise_. Damn Bones and his damn conniving ways.

"How do you know so little about Vulcans when your own first officer is a half-Vulcan?" Bones asked incredulously.

Jim shrugged. "Have you ever tried talking to Spock?" Jim responded. "He'd rather amputate his own foot than offer up any personal information."

McCoy scoffed. "He'd probably be better at amputation than one-on-one personal chats, too."

Jim smiled slightly and downed the rest of his drink. Bones quickly poured him another glass. Jim shook his head. Vulcans kiss with their hands. That was crazy! Why hadn't he said anything or at least tried to pull away? But if Jim thought about it, he did remember how uncomfortable and tense Spock had gotten.

This wasn't Jim's fault. He hadn't known. This was Spock's fault. If he had been uncomfortable, he should have swallowed his damn pride and said so.

"But Spock didn't say anything..." Jim trailed off, knowing that he sounded defensive. He hadn't said anything, but he _had _attempted to pull his hands away. It had been a really half-assed attempt though.

"Of course he didn't say anything!" Bones exclaimed, waving his arms around wildly. "Damned Vulcans probably consider any sexual pleasure - or, in this case, displeasure - a weakness."

"Hey," Jim said, slightly offended, "for all you know, I'm an awesome kisser. Probably the best hand kiss Spock's ever had."

An awkward silence fell between the two men. Bones was right. Neither of them were drunk enough for this.

"I thought that he was just tense because he's a touch telepath. I figured he was just concerned about being able to read my mind or something," Jim finally said, wishing with an illogical fervor that he could erase his previous comment. Bones was giving him an indecipherable look and Jim found it to be insanely disconcerting. He just wanted him to say something, anything. Although, he had a feeling that anything Bones would say would be less than appreciated in the long run.

"I suppose I should probably apologize for molesting his hands," Jim said, glancing down into his now empty glass. Bones spluttered at his word choice and Jim chuckled slightly through his guilt.

"I need another drink," he said, and instead of pouring another glass, just took a swig from the bottle. Jim laughed and held out his glass for more.

~*00*~

Later that night, Jim stumbled his way back to his own quarters. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this intoxicated, but he very much appreciated it right now. He didn't understand how he had unwittingly started a make out session with his first officer. His very stoic, emotionally unavailable, half-Vulcan first officer. The odd thing was that he was more upset about the fact the he hadn't known that it was happening than that it had happened at all. At least if he had known, he could have gone out of his way to enjoy it for what it was. Or, at the very least, he could have attempted to make Spock even more uncomfortable.

Jim giggled at the thought. He was so drunk.

Somehow or another, he came to a halt outside of Spock's room. He swayed slightly before falling against the door.

"Spock," he called out petulantly, sporadically knocking against the door. He giggled when he played a tune with the beats of his knocking. "Spoooock!"

He could hear movement from in the room. Spock was blind...Spock couldn't see. He should leave the poor man alone. But he had to apologize. He had to let the Vulcan man known that he hadn't meant to try to sex him. After all, Spock wasn't really his type. He was tall, and pale, and had deep brown eyes that smiled at him. Yes, Spock was an attractive man. But not for Jim. Nope.

Well, maybe sexing Spock wouldn't be so bad after all.

No, bad Jim. That's not what he meant. He meant it _would _be bad sexing Spock. Yes. But he just had to apologize. What if Spock _hated_ him? He couldn't handle that. No, he was going to apologize.

"Spock," he called out once more, slouching against the door. So it was a great surprise for him when the door slid open and he fell against a soft, warm body.

"Jim?" he asked, confusion evident in his voice. Through his drunken state, Jim felt guilt again at waking his friend up for no good reason. But then again, he was really too drunk to act on said guilt, so instead, he wrapped his arms around the half-Vulcan's waist and squeezed him tight.

"I'm sorry, Spock," he mumbled into his chest. Spock stiffened and stood still. "I didn't mean to." He pulled back and sloppily brought his hands to Spock's face, trying to pat him on the cheek.

"What are you referring to, Captain?" Spock asked, trying to fend off the intruding hands while holding up the young captain.

"I'm sorry," Jim just continued muttering. "Please don't hate me."

Spock froze, this time not out of discomfort, but out of confusion and fear. "Jim, you are inebriated. You need to sleep."

"Just a little," he giggled and clenched at Spock's shirt, like how a small child would clench at his mother's skirt. "I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry and I didn't know." He shook his head.

Jim looked up at Spock and smiled before reaching up and gently running his finger over the tip of Spock's ear. It flushed a bright green and Jim smiled in pure childlike delight. "I like your ears," he whispered. "They're _fascinating_."

Spock's cheeks flushed a bright green and he disengaged from Jim. Jim pouted as the loss of the warmth of his friend's body. Not that he was cold as Spock's room always resembled an overwhelmingly hot desert.

"You need to sleep, Captain," Spock said firmly crossing his arms over his chest in what was a decidedly defensive pose. Jim groaned and swayed again. Maybe Spock was right. Sleep sounded good. He should sleep.

"G'night Spock," Jim said, turning around to leave the room before falling over. He laughed as he hit the floor and then stood back up. The attempt took at least two tries. "G'night Spock. I'm sorry."

He left before Spock could say anything else and finally found his own quarters. If it hadn't been for his captain's override code, he probably would have been forced to sleep in the hallway. As it was, he was able to vocally command his door open and he entered, plopping down on his bed. It took him a couple minutes to figure out his boots, but as soon as they were off, he drifted off into a deep sleep.

~*00*~

Something had happened last night. Something horrible. Something that Jim couldn't quite remember but was pretty sure it had something to do with his raging hangover. All he knew was that he probably had a good reason to yell at Bones and an even better reason to apologize to Spock. He just wished he could remember why.

Jim sighed and quickly got ready. He would head to the sickbay and get something for his horrible hangover and maybe Bones would have some answers. He shook his head as he left his quarters in dim confusion. It had been years since he had gotten so drunk that he couldn't remember what had happened the next morning. He was now reminded that there was a good reason for it. Having holes in his memory was definitely disorienting and unpleasant.

"Bones," he moaned as he walked into the sickbay. His friend looked over at him and rolled his eyes.

"I knew I should have bet money that you would come down here today," Bones sighed, grabbing a hypo and jabbing it into Jim's neck before he could protest. "Problem solved."

Jim grabbed his neck instinctively, but nodded his gratitude to the doctor regardless. "What happened?" Jim asked, moving towards his office. Bones looked at him for a moment before following him into the office, closing the door behind him.

"What do you mean?"

Jim flushed slightly. "I don't remember what happened," he confessed.

Bones chuckled slightly then launched into a re-enactment of the conversation from the previous night. It was unfortunate for Jim, who realized that Bones was probably getting twice the enjoyment from it.

"So I kissed Spock?" Jim asked, just wanting a confirmation.

"Yes."

"And then I got drunk with you?"

"Yes."

"And then I left."

Bones nodded. Something had happened after that, he knew it. He could feel it in his very core, the pit of his stomach, in his very bones. Something had happened after he'd left Bones's quarters. And he was pretty sure that it had something to do with Spock. And he was almost positive that it wasn't good.

"I have to go. I need to check in on Spock," Jim said, standing up and leaving without looking back. He had a lot to apologize for if his hunch was even half correct.

The walk to Spock's room didn't take nearly enough time and Jim considered how much of an inconvenience it would be to issue room reassignments. It would probably involve a lot of paperwork, and Jim was already behind in that department as it was. He quickly vetoed the idea as he stood outside of Spock's room. He supposed he kind of looked like a fool to his crew members, so he quickly punched in the entrance code and stepped in when the door opened.

Spock was sitting on his bed, a steaming cup in his hands. Jim carefully walked over to the replicator and set it to prepare breakfast before walking over to sit in a chair by the bed.

"Hey Spock," he said softly, looking down at his hands. He was briefly glad that Spock couldn't see him because he was pretty sure he looked like a nervous wreck.

Ugh. He was never drinking with Bones again.

"Hello Captain," Spock responded, stiffening slightly and withdrawing slightly from the nonexistent conversation. Jim almost sighed. He had _definitely _done something inappropriate last night.

He stood up again to go set the food out on the table and called Spock over to join him. He watched as Spock stood up and carefully made his way over to the table. Jim winced as Spock ran into the corner of his desk, but he didn't dare stand up to help him. He decided that it was probably smartest to maintain a healthy distance for the moment.

Breakfast passed at an agonizingly slow pace. Jim kept on trying to apologize and Spock simply sat there eating methodically, looking unreceptive to anything that Jim might have been trying to say. To be fair, he hadn't actually tried yet, but it was disconcerting to apologize to a brick wall, even if the brick wall really deserved an apology.

Instead, they finished their breakfast silently and Jim stood to go to the bridge to see if there was anything exciting that had happened during the night shift. He doubted it. "Do you need anything before I go?" Jim asked.

To his surprise, Spock stood up shortly and walked to the door, leaving without a word. Jim remained standing in place before tearing after him, confused as hell. Why couldn't Spock ever just act like a normal person, ever? Why did he always have to make things so difficult? Was a simple 'no, Jim, I am fine, but thank you for offering' so hard?

Judging by the speed that Spock was walking through the halls, it was.

"Spock," he called after his first officer as he chased after him. Spock paused for a moment and Jim ended up stalking after him down the hall. This had to be one of the uncaptainly-like moments to ever be witnessed by crew members in the history of uncaptainly moments. "Where are you going? Bones would kill me if he knew I was letting you walk around potential hazards."

"You know I do not appreciate having my personal space invaded," Spock said, whirling on him, an accusatory tone lacing his voice. Jim stopped short, as if struck. He was mad, and Spock realized this and quickly seemed to reign in his emotions.

"I'm sorry," Jim said after a moment, slightly ashamed of the pleading undertone in his voice. "I've been trying to apologize all morning. I didn't know-" he lowered his voice as a couple of ensigns walked past them, "I didn't know that your hands are...I mean, what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry for invading your personal space yesterday."

Spock didn't move, didn't even look like he had heard him. Jim waited for a minute, shifting back and forth on his feet. Spock simply stared at him blindly, seemingly internally debating with himself.

"An apology is unnecessary, Captain," Spock finally said tersely after what seemed like an eternity. He was still mad, Jim could tell. Why couldn't he just get angry and get it over with? Then they could get back to being friends again. Or...whatever they had been before this whole mess.

"Damn it Spock, I know you're still angry," Jim snapped. "What do you want me to do?"

Spock kept his silence, as Jim expected he would.

"What happened last night?" Jim pressed, hoping to melt the cold exterior of his first officer and get answers at the same time. He just wanted to see a glimpse of the humanity in Spock, just a trace of it. He knew that it was there because he saw it so frequently. He also knew that he was the cause of its current absence. But if he wouldn't allow him to make amends, what was he supposed to do? And in his helplessness, he became frustrated.

Jim found that, in Spock's lack of expressible anger, his was building up. And it wasn't even Spock's fault. He was just so mad. Mad at the Organian's for betraying their trust, mad at the Klingons for hurting his first officer, mad at Bones for allowing him to get drunk, mad at Spock for not ever opening up about things that bothered him or made him uncomfortable...but most of all, he was mad at himself. Mad that he'd allowed any of it to happen in the first place, mad that he couldn't undo whatever it was he had done, mad that he hadn't had the self-control that he had needed to avoid making a mess of things...mad that he was turning out to be a massively incompetent captain.

And he was mad enough that he didn't care who he hurt, as long as the fury building inside his chest would diminish and just go away.

And in this anger, he found that he was as blind as Spock. So he couldn't stop the inexplicably hurtful words that poured out of his mouth, and he couldn't stop the hand that reached out and shoved the man against the wall, and he couldn't stop his feet from carrying him away from a hurt, confused Spock.

Only to realize a couple minutes later that he had made another grave mistake. No wonder Spock didn't want to be his friend. For someone as logical as Spock to want to be friends with someone as emotionally out of control as Jim, the universe would have to descend into some kind of eternal opposite day. He couldn't explain his outburst to himself, let alone Spock, especially seeing as it was entirely unwarranted. Not to mention, he had left him alone, on a big ship, blind. He had to go back, even if Spock never wanted to see him again. Jim almost laughed at his bad, unintentional joke, but found that he simply didn't have the energy for it.

Surprisingly, he found the man where he had left him, standing with his back to the wall. He seemed to have regained some of his composure and merely seemed to be waiting.

"Spock, I'm so sorry," Jim whispered, stopping in front of his first officer tentatively. "I didn't mean to let my anger get the best of me. I've just been...well, it doesn't matter. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you. I wasn't even mad _at_ you."

Spock nodded slightly. "Apology accepted, Captain," he replied and Jim was relieved to note that some of the tension in his shoulders had decreased and there was a slight softening to his facial features as well. Jim was surprised. That had been way easier than it was it was supposed to be. And for some odd reason, he felt the need to reach out to the other man, to thank him for being so stable, so comforting in his calm demeanor.

Before he could make sense of this feeling or express anything at all to Spock, the man doubled over. It was just for a moment before he straightened back up. Spock brought his hand up to his head, gently massaging his temples. A pained look flashed across his face so quickly that Jim almost thought he'd imagined it. But then it took up residence in his eyes, and Jim knew that something was wrong.

"Are you alright, Spock?" he asked, hesitantly reaching out a hand and resting it on Spock's shoulder in a comforting gesture. He was surprised when Spock didn't tense up or pull away after their previous conversation.

He shook his head once, paused, and then nodded. "I believe my vision is coming back," he said.

Jim's eyes widened in surprise. Would the return of his eyesight be painful? Bones certainly hadn't said anything about it. Then again, he also hadn't seemed as confident as he usually was when diagnosing Spock's predicament. Maybe he should call him...

Jim moved over to the communications console before Spock called out to him. "I do not need assistance from the doctor."

Jim looked back at him, wondering if he had gotten his vision back so quickly. But upon second look, he could tell that he was still blind. "What's wrong, then?" he asked, coming back to stand next to him.

"It is nothing I cannot handle," Spock said, ignoring Jim's question. Jim sighed and crossed his arms in slight exasperation.

"I didn't ask if you could handle it, I asked what was wrong," Jim reiterated, hoping that he got his point across. All of the need to fight had left him, leaving a tired man its wake.

"For the past four days, thirteen hours, and ten minutes I have seen nothing but dark," Spock elaborated. "However, the dark has been replaced with a bright light. I believe my eyes are having a more trouble making the transition than the doctor had anticipated." He paused for a moment and looked down to his hands. "It has led to an unpleasant sensation in my head."

Also known as a headache.

Jim sighed and shook his head. "Well, that's still good," he reasoned. "Your eyesight will probably be back soon." He looked around and realized that they were still in the hallway. "We should get you back to your room. I need to head to the bridge," he said and gently grabbed his arm to pull him in the direction of his quarters. He was mildly shocked when Spock didn't attempt to protest. The shock quickly gave way to worry. Spock's headache must be terrible if he wasn't resisting being led somewhere. Jim made a mental note to stop at the sickbay and pick up something for the headache. He had to inform Bones about the change in Spock's eyes anyway.

He could do with some form of pain relief too. It was too early in the day to want to crawl back into bed and sleep the pain away. And for once, Jim found that he didn't even want to blame anyone else for it but himself.

Call it progress.

A.N.  
So is it really canon for chocolate to serve as a form of intoxication for Vulcans? That's awesome...and crazy. I never would have expected that. Thanks for the answers guys! In terms of the vampire question, it had nothing to do with this story. Someone had just told me that there were vampires in Star Trek and I was like 'what, really?' so I googled it and couldn't find any proof, minus mentions of a cloud thing. Apparently, that's what they were referring to.

Anyway, thanks for the answers, guys! I appreciate it and feel more knowledgeable already. Thanks for reading this. This chapter will have a supplement that will be up soon from Spock's point of view as I feel like it might be necessary. Might not, but we'll see. I know this chapter might not make much sense now, but hopefully it will.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Jim couldn't explain it and probably wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he was avoiding his first officer like the plague. It hadn't been a conscious thought, and it certainly wasn't warranted, but it didn't change the one-sided icy chasm that had formed between the two men. And Jim wasn't sure he knew how to change it, even if he wanted to.

Spock had gotten his vision back only a few hours after his blinding headache, which had been a relief for both of them. Jim had started to miss always being present on the bridge and he missed Spock's presence on the bridge even more. Something just seemed to be missing when the science officer wasn't at his post. Aside from that, Jim was getting tired of trying to force the half-Vulcan to simply take care of himself and allow others to help him out once in a while.

Somewhere along the line, though, Jim found that he couldn't quite handle being around his first officer. At least not right now. There wasn't any real particular reason behind, but Jim was willing to bet that it was his own memory that was sabotaging his friendship with the half-Vulcan.

Recently, he had been having dreams about the incident on Organia. It was if he was reliving the event over and over in his dreams. Walking into the room where Spock was chained, taking in his bloodied body and sightless eyes. Jim couldn't handle it and awoke each morning in a cold sweat. Part of him thought that if he created distance between the two of them, then the dreams would stop. But even if that was the reason, it was only part of it.

The other reason was harder to explain and Jim wasn't even certain of it himself. Although, if he had to guess, it probably had something to do with the security tapes that he had confiscated from the security department. Seeing as he couldn't get any answers out of Spock regarding what had happened during his drunken escapades, he had done some detective work on his own.

What he came up with was decidedly better off ignored and, not for the first time, Jim regretted his curiosity and resented his power as the captain. If he had been any other person on this ship (minus Spock and Bones), he would have been spared the knowledge of just how stupid he was really capable of being. Who would have thought that being able to override everything on the ship with just a voice command could end up with such bad results?

Jim closed his eyes against the memory of what he had seen on the tapes. Hugging Spock, touching his face and ears...outright declaring that he _liked_ said ears. Yes, Jim had made a mess of things. No wonder Spock had been so uncomfortable the morning after. Jim couldn't say he blamed him.

So maybe it was a sense of humiliation that kept him from actively seeking Spock's company. Or maybe it was sheer overexposure. He had seen a lot of Spock over the past few days. Perhaps he was merely growing tired of his presence. But Jim thought that was crazy. Spock was definitely one of the most interesting people that Jim had ever known. He didn't think that it was possible to get tired of him. Whenever he thought that he was finally getting a grasp on who his first officer was, he peeled back another layer and revealed something entirely unexpected.

Regardless of the reasoning, Jim had kept his distance from his first officer who, in turn, seemed to take a hint. Which is more than Jim could ever say.

And although he knew that it was irrational, Jim kind of felt hurt by Spock's lack of trying. If it had been Spock who was withdrawing from the friendship, Jim would have been at his door in an instant, demanding to know what was wrong. And yet, Spock had said nothing, speaking only when necessary. And Jim definitely felt slighted and offended. Wasn't he worth fighting for? Didn't he deserve a loyal friend in Spock after all that they had been through together?

These were the thoughts that occupied the young captain as he sat in his room, working on the stack of paperwork that he had been procrastinating on for the past week. It was exhausting and boring, but being a captain couldn't be all fun and games. Although, Jim wasn't sure why it couldn't be.

A buzz at his door startled Jim out of his concentration and he immediately stood up, thrilled at the possibility of a legitimate reason to take a break. He quickly walked to the door and opened it.

Spock stood stiffly, his arms tucked behind his back. Jim immediately felt his enthusiasm at a visitor evaporate and he found that, despite his previous thoughts, he didn't actually want to see Spock after all. And he couldn't explain why.

There was absolutely no good reason for Jim to want to avoid his first officer, especially considering all the energy he had already placed into their tentative friendship. And it wasn't that Jim even wanted to abandon said friendship, he just wanted a bit of a break to catch his thoughts and put them back in their place.

But he also knew that, on a starship, luxuries such as time were hard to come by.

"Spock," Jim greeted and found himself grinding his teeth in frustration when he replied with a tense, "Captain."

Jim stepped aside and allowed the half-Vulcan to enter his quarters. He turned back to his desk and sat down on top of it, looking at the other man expectantly. He wasn't going to start this conversation, not this time. This was all Spock's doing, and Jim was going to be a passive bystander.

Spock seemed to understand this, although he didn't seem to appreciate it as Jim could detect a hint of irritation in his brown eyes. Jim bit on the inside of his cheek to hide his smile. He simply wasn't in the mood to purposefully antagonize his first officer today, which said more about his current mood than anything else. Jim almost always enjoyed antagonizing anyone and everyone.

"Captain," Spock began, meeting his eyes after a moment and Jim took this opportunity to interrupt.

"Commander?" Jim countered. Two could play this game. If Spock refused to call him by his given name, then he wouldn't call Spock by his. He knew that it was childish, but hopefully it would get his point across.

Jim thought that it must have worked because Spock stopped short, uncertain as to how to proceed. The uncertainty only lasted a few seconds as Spock regained his composure. "I have noted that, for the past two days you seem to be avoiding my presence."

Jim wasn't sure how to respond. He'd never actually been called out on his bullshit behavior before. At least not by anyone who actually mattered. And not so bluntly, either.

Spock didn't continue, but the unspoken words lingered in the air anyway: _What did I do?_ A flash of guilt went through Jim and he stood up and began pacing. Spock hadn't done anything. It was Jim. And Jim simply didn't have an answer for Spock.

Luckily, he was saved from the growing tension by a sound from the communications console. "Bridge to the Captain," came the voice of one of the night crew. Jim wracked his brains, trying to put a name to the voice, but came up empty.

"Captain here," he responded, hoping that the need for his name wouldn't come up.

"We're receiving a message from Starfleet. It's urgent."

Jim nodded. "Patch it through," he said and waited for the message. It only took a few seconds before the face of one of the Admirals, whom he couldn't be bothered to remember, appeared on the console.

"Captain Kirk," the man greeted him, nodding his head slightly.

"Admiral," Jim responded, hoping that he didn't look incompetent because he had no idea who he was talking to. He knew what his next task was after he finished his mountain of paperwork: memorize each and every name and face so that he was never in this position again.

The man seemed to realize that Jim didn't know his name and he bristled slightly but didn't comment on it. "We have a new mission for you, Captain," he said, using what had to have been the most patronizing tone Jim had ever heard in his life. Which was remarkable because he worked with Spock on a daily basis and that man had patronizing down to an art.

"You have been summoned to return to Earth for upgrades and minor repairs." The admiral paused for a moment and seemed to fumble with something off screen before turning back to Jim. "I am sending you a document with further details. You are to see to this immediately and sign off on the upgrades and repairs."

"Of course," Jim responded easily, and after an awkward goodbye, the communication link was cut. Jim glanced at the document that had appeared on the console and decided that Starfleet needed to adjust how they sent their information. Forty pages was simply too much for Jim to sit down and willingly read. Therefore, it probably wouldn't get done.

Unless he had Spock read it. He turned around and saw that he was still standing in the same position that he had been in before the arrival of the message. He abruptly changed his mind, seeing as it would probably look bad. Instead, he contacted the bridge and informed them of their change of destination and instructed them to make a ship-wide announcement. He was quickly informed that they would arrive sometime within the next twenty-four hours. Jim thanked the night crew and turned back to face Spock, who looked torn between running out of the room and standing his ground until he got some answers.

"Sit down," Jim offered, gesturing around to any of the open seats in his room against his better judgment. Spock tentatively chose one at the table and sat down. He looked up expectantly and Jim bit back a sigh. "Looks like we get that shore leave after all," he said instead of even attempting to answer Spock's unasked question.

And he couldn't say that he wasn't at least partly grateful for it and he was pretty sure that he wouldn't hear many complaints from the rest of the crew either. True, they had only been out and about for about a month, but with the amount of excitement that they often encountered with their seemingly quick and easy missions, everyone was running around with frayed nerves and grumpy dispositions. Even Chekov was getting a bit snappy as of late, and that boy was _always_ in a good mood.

"Indeed," Spock agreed. "It is a much needed reprieve."

Jim chuckled slightly. "You've been back to work for two days and already you want a vacation?" he teased slightly.

"I have no need or desire for a vacation, Captain," Spock replied contemptuously, "but other crew members will undoubtedly appreciate the break."

"I concur, Commander," Jim said, sitting down across from him, determined to rub in the point of how annoying it was to be addressed by a title all the time. Spock, of course, seemed unfazed. He should have seen this coming.

A companionable silence fell between the two men and Jim was momentarily surprised at how easy it was. Just a few days ago, such a silence would have instantly been considered uncomfortable and undesirable. But something had changed, and it wasn't just triggered by the events on Organia. Of course, it was an influence, but it wasn't the sole reason. No disaster could create such a bond if something hadn't already been there.

And just like that, Jim couldn't imagine wanting any distance at all from his first officer. If anything, he just wanted them to be closer. He wanted to know Spock, truly know him. To understand his thoughts and to be able to read his emotions. He wanted to know his past, his present, his future, to gain perspective on the private man who sat before him. He wanted a friend, a best friend.

Like Bones...but sane.

He knew, somehow, that this was all that Spock wanted from him as well. And Jim thought that he could understand where he was coming from. For a person who hadn't had many, if any friends, in the past, Spock was probably clinging to whatever friendship he could find, no matter how dysfunctional it may be.

Which is why he and Spock weren't really all that different. Oh yeah, physiologically they were different and philosophically they had little in common, but that's what made things interesting. Jim didn't want to be friends with someone who was just like him. He wanted to someone to argue with, to debate with. Someone intelligent who knew how to get to him, but also knew when to back off. But then, someone who had the courage to stand his ground, even in the face of his unyielding rage. And he thought that this was probably what Spock wanted too.

But then, Jim was brooding. And Spock noticed.

"Captain?" Spock asked softly.

"Commander?" he responded, wondering just how long he had been sitting there with a contemplative look on his face.

"Are you quite alright?" he asked hesitantly.

Jim nodded and smiled. "Of course, I was just...thinking."

Spock nodded in understanding. Apparently thinking was something that the half-Vulcan could understand. Now if he had said _feeling_...Jim laughed at the imagined expression on Spock's face. If anything, the unprompted laughter increased Spock's concern and Jim tried to wave it away a shrug and a careless gesture.

"Captain?" Spock asked again.

"Commander?" Jim found that he was growing tired of this game. Spock wasn't getting the hint and 'Commander' just took so much more time to say. However, the continued exchange did seem to puzzle the logical man. After all, Jim rarely referred to Spock by his rank title. Mr. Spock, yes, but rarely Commander.

"Might I inquire as to why you are suddenly addressing me by my title, Captain?"

Ha, he finally took the bait!

"Well, Commander, I could ask you the same question," Jim replied, taking delight in the raised eyebrow.

After a moment, Spock seemed to formulate a logical response. "You are my commanding officer, Captain, and therefore it is only appropriate that I refer to you as such."

"Ah, but as your commanding officer, I am requesting that you call me Jim," Jim shot back. He couldn't help the small smile that spread across his face, although he tried his hardest to keep it from being too smug.

"It would be inappropriate."

"Even though you've called me Jim before?"

"It was merely a lapse of good judgement, Captain."

"Well, perhaps you should have more lapses of good judgement."

"That would be illogical."

"There's a reason we have first names," Jim sighed, trying desperately to mask the frustration in his voice. "Maybe we should use them."

"There is a reason our ranks have titles as well, Captain," Spock responded, a slight edge to his voice. However, Jim thought that he could detect the humor behind his tone. Jim smiled slightly before chuckling.

"Of course, Spock," Jim agreed and shook his head in dim wonder. A twitch tugged at the corner of Spock's lips, a sincere attempt at a smile. Jim's smile grew bigger at the sight.

"In the future, I will endeavor to call you by your given name, Jim," Spock said after a moment, conceding defeat to Jim's awesome prowess. Well, at least Jim thought it was awesome.

"That's all I ask," Jim smiled and pat the man on the shoulder in a friendly way before standing up and stretching his taut muscles. Spock took that as his cue to leave and he stood up as well and made his way to the door, uttering a quiet "Good night." Jim responded to the farewell similarly and smiled as the door slid shut.

It was weird to think that things between them had started out so rocky when things now seemed to just flow easily. But it was also nice to realize that any problems that might have been between them (because Jim really _was_ an idiot sometimes) had been taken care of without any serious blows to anyone's ego or pride. Although, Jim figured that it was probably his ego and pride that had narrowly missed taking a beating.

Jim quickly prepared for bed and easily slid into a deep sleep. And for the first night in a few days, he woke up, not in the panicked state that follows a nightmare, but in a well rested, excited mood for the day ahead.

And he climbed out of bed and practically skipped to the dining area, greeting everyone in his path with a massive smile. He knew that they probably just assumed that their captain was excited about the upcoming shore leave, and maybe he was. But he couldn't help but be excited over his newfound peace of mind. Not even Bones's disapproving stare as he critiqued Jim's breakfast could change that.

"I think I'm going home to visit my daughter," Bones said when Jim asked him what his plans were for his shore leave. "I haven't seen her since I left for Starfleet, minus a few visits."

Jim's cheery demeanor dimmed slightly and he regretted bringing up the topic. He knew that his friend often felt bad for his lack of involvement in his daughter's life. And he knew from previous experiences that it was nearly impossible to cheer him up. Because every once in a while, Jim was just too damn realistic to be a really sympathetic listener. Not to mention, when Bones's was in a mood, there wasn't force in the universe cheery enough to bring a smile to the dour man's face.

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that," Jim said, lying through his teeth. And they both knew it from experience. Jim knew that he had always resented his mother whenever she returned home from her countless travels. No matter what she brought home with her, whether they were actual gifts or mere excuses, he just couldn't bring himself to care. She should have been there and she hadn't been. It was that simple.

And he knew that Bones realized that from the defeated slump of his shoulders. But he also knew that he would probably get incredibly wasted and be okay sometime within the next week, if not the next few days.

Bones looked up and a hint of his gruff self shone through as he attempted to shrug away his concerns. "You know," he said, "you're always welcome to join me." There was a hopeful undertone to his voice and Jim internally flinched away from it. He knew that it wasn't a purely selfish offer, as Bones knew all about Jim's home life. He knew that Jim disliked going home and that he had always had a hard time facing his mother. But Jim also knew what Bones's life was like and wasn't nearly naive enough to believe that Bones was merely trying to make his life better. He knew that he wanted someone with him, whether to alleviate the pain or just give him someone to rant to when things fell apart, Jim wasn't sure. Regardless, he knew that a vacation with Bones would be disastrous, no matter how much he cared for his friend.

"I can't," Jim said, feeling guilt tug at his conscience. After all, Bones had always been there for him. Mostly. But Jim didn't have the ability to face his own family, why would Bones think that he could handle someone else's? "I already have plans."

McCoy raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Really? What're you doing?"

Jim floundered for a minute before his eyes came to rest on his first officer, who was conveniently heading their way with a bowl of fruit in his hands. "I'm going, um, around the world in 14 days with Spock!" Jim exclaimed hastily as the half-Vulcan sat down next to him. Inwardly he rolled his eyes. The excuse sounded outlandish even to him.

Immediately one of Spock's eyebrows went up and Jim inwardly cursed it. He had forgotten that Vulcans don't lie, and even when they did, they had a tendency to fail epically.

"Really?" Bones replied skeptically, glancing suspiciously between the two men. Spock seemed to have decided that it was best to stay out of the conversation altogether and began to eat his breakfast.

"Well," Jim modified, deciding to at least attempt to make it sound believable, "we might not go around the world, per se, but there will be definite traveling. I was thinking camping, but Spock's fairly fond of beds and indoor facilities, so we'll see."

Spock looked up sharply at this fabrication, but didn't say anything, just giving him what was essentially the Vulcan glare. Which, by human standards, was really just a slightly furrowed brow.

Jim expected more questioning, but instead Bones just laughed. "And here I was feeling bad for _myself_," he said, shaking his head slightly before standing up. "Poor bastard."

With that, he made his way to the exit, leaving both men wondering just who the 'poor bastard' was.

"I was unaware of such plans," Spock said after a moment, glancing at Jim in mild amusement.

"Well, I had to come up with an excuse fast and it was the first thing I thought of," Jim said, shrugging.

"So where did you have in mind, Jim?" Spock asked after a moment.

Jim turned to look at him, shock flashing over his face at the surprise offer. He hadn't actually expected Spock to actually _want_ to spend their shore leave together, although he definitely wasn't opposed to the idea. "What?" was the only coherent thing that Jim could express.

"For camping," Spock elaborated. "Was there any particular destination you had in mind?"

Jim shook his head slightly, not trusting his brain and mouth enough to attempt to say anything. "You actually want to go camping with me," Jim clarified after a moment, getting his mind and mouth to work in tandem again.

Spock paused before nodding slightly. "I am not disinclined to your presence and am therefore not opposed to spending my shore leave time with you."

Which Jim figured, in some odd way, was Spock speak for '_we're friends, that's what friends do'_.

A.N.  
Is Bones's daughter's name Joanne or Joanna? Or am I just way off? I know I could google it, but I like testing your seemingly infinite knowledge. Haha. Anyway, thanks for reading and for the reviews guys. It means a lot.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Where should we go?" Jim murmured, staring at a map intently as he sat in Spock's temporary quarters at Starfleet headquarters. They were rooms that were provided for the crew when they were grounded for a shore leave or repairs. Jim appreciated them because they definitely beat heading back home to Iowa for an awkward visit with his mother. Jim almost shuddered at the mere thought.

Spock, who was sitting at the desk with a datapad in his hand, ignored him, probably deciding that it was a rhetorical question. Which it had been...kinda. Jim glanced up at him before shrugging and turning back to the map. He was probably just double checking things to make sure that Jim had done all the things that he was supposed to. He didn't blame Spock. Jim did have a habit of overlooking minor details...and sometimes major details.

To be fair, any details that may have escaped Jim's attention wasn't entirely his fault this time. The morning had been filled with a flurry of chaos as the crew members of the Enterprise scurried around, preparing for the shore leave. They _had_ only been given a few hours to prepare and therefore, things were bound to get hectic. As such, it wasn't surprising that things would get lost or forgotten in the excitement.

Jim had spent most of his morning with Scotty, checking off last minute things and checking things with the engineer. As far as he could tell, Scotty had every intention of staying with the ship through the repairs and upgrades. He didn't trust the Starfleet personnel as far as he could throw them. Or something like that. Jim was pretty sure that the way that Scotty had said it had contained far more expletives. Either way, he knew better than to try to come between a man and his ship.

After making sure that everything was in running order on the Enterprise, he had quickly thrown his own things together and now here he was, poring over a map trying to find a suitable camping location. His first thought had been to head to a desert, seeing as the weather was turning colder, thus ruling out cooler areas like beaches or forests. Which pretty much left desert. Plus, he figured Spock might feel more comfortable in a desert environment as it was more likely to remind him of his home. Jim could only hope that this wouldn't backfire.

"We could go to Death Valley," Jim said, glancing up at Spock to see his reaction. He didn't _really _want to go to Death Valley, as the name was a bit daunting, but he was growing tired of the stifling silence that had grown between them.

Spock raised his eyebrow. "Pardon me, but I do not see the appeal in visiting a place with such a formidable name."

Jim chuckled slightly and turned his attention back to the map. He was starting to get slightly frustrated. Finding a decent place to camp was proving to be more work than Jim had originally thought. First off, Jim wasn't nearly as familiar with San Francisco as he thought he was. But he did know that there really weren't any decent places to camp in the immediate area. He hadn't really wanted to travel any extended distances, but now that he had invested so much time into this camping trip, he was determined to see it happen. Which meant he would drive to the end of earth and back, no matter how irrational it might be.

However, finding a place to go wasn't the only thing that he had to do. He had to find tents and camping things like sleeping bags and...stuff. Jim almost groaned at his own incompetence. He hadn't been camping since he had been eleven years old. He had no idea what one would need to survive in the wilderness. And he refused to ask Spock to look up information on camping. It would completely defeat the point of roughing it on their own if they had to read up on how to do it.

Jim sighed loudly, causing Spock to look up with a raised eyebrow. "I give up," Jim moaned, dragging a tired hand through his hair.

"Have you changed your mind about camping, Jim?" Spock asked, setting the datapad down on his desk. If Jim didn't know any better, he would have said that Spock sounded disappointed.

"No," he replied, setting the map down and closing his eyes. He could almost feel Spock's intense gaze as he began to twirl his finger through the air. Moments later, he brought it down on the map and opened his eyes expectantly to see where it had landed. He felt himself deflate slightly when he saw that he had inadvertently chosen Iowa. Jim sighed. Some higher power being in the universe must really hate him. Either that, or they had a cruel sense of humor. He closed his eyes again, letting his finger fall back to the map. New York. Nope, that wouldn't work. Well, the third time had to be the charm...Canada. Maybe not. Too damn cold. Jim almost groaned and threw the map, only the presence of his logical officer making him change his mind. He refused to be defeated by this shoddy map! He closed his eyes one last time, determined to accept wherever the map told him to go.

Arizona.

Jim sighed. _No one likes Arizona_, he thought bitterly, but decided that it was probably best to just settle. Plus, Arizona was _all_ desert, for the most part. It shouldn't be too hard to find a place to camp.

"Jim?" Spock's questioning voice alerted Jim to his presence. Jim looked up and was suddenly struck by how irrational his previous actions must have seemed to his logical friend.

"It's a decision mechanism," Jim replied, shrugging slightly and standing up suddenly. He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Now all they had to do was find tents and sleeping bags...and things for roasting marshmallows. Except Spock was a vegetarian. He couldn't eat marshmallows. Oh well, Spock could roast carrots or something. He smiled to himself. This was going to be easy.

Spock stood after a moment as well, grabbing his own bag and holding stiffly. Jim smiled at him, hoping to put him at ease before leaving the room without a word, Spock following closely behind him.

In the end, it hadn't been hard to find the things they needed, including a car so they wouldn't have to deal with the transportation system. It wasn't long before they were on the road, Jim driving and Spock navigating. It was the best setup as Jim lacked a navigational compass and Spock technically didn't know how to drive. Of course, Jim knew that it would probably take the Vulcan all of two seconds before he was able to drive better than Jim himself, but it was still better this way.

"How long do you think it'll take us to get there?" Jim asked after about an hour of driving in near silence. He could probably estimate the time himself, but at that point in time he was desperate for a breach in the quiet.

Spock took a second to calculate the time down to the millisecond before saying, "It will take us approximately eight hours, thirty four point ten minutes until we reach our destination if we continue at this speed."

_That_ had been a mistake. Although it certainly hadn't been intended that way, Jim decided to take it as a challenge. He'd get them there in 6 hours or his name wasn't James T. Kirk. As such, he sped up from kinda above an almost legal speed to a if-we-get-caught-we'll-be-thrown-in-jail-so-fast-it-won't-even-be-funny speed. He glanced at Spock out of the corner of his eye and had to suppress a laugh when he noticed that he seemed to be a tad bit greener than usual.

But Jim lived for these moments when he could overlook the line between sane and not and laugh in its face. He thrived on the adrenaline, on the slight fear that he might really not survive this time if something went wrong. He was at his most confident at such moments because he knew how to handle them.

Therefore, it wasn't surprising that he managed to get them to the middle of godforesaken nowhere Arizona before the sun had set and two hours before their expected arrival. Which was impressive, even to Jim, seeing as they had stopped a couple of times for food and other needs. Either way, Jim was fairly certain that Spock had learned his lesson: never say anything that the foolhardy young man could misconstrue as a potentially fatal challenge.

After driving around for a while, Jim found a suitable place for them to set up camp, away from civilization. They had both agreed that staying in a campground defeated the purpose of camping. At least in the real, rugged, manly sense that Jim had built up in his mind.

It took them a little over an hour to get everything settled, which was a little pathetic seeing as they had also agreed that it would be best to forgo a tent. Jim would later blame it on the campfire, but Spock would forever claim that Jim merely lacked a functioning attention span.

Finally they were both ready to settle down and eat a poorly prepared meal. Jim was really just looking forward to roasting marshmallows. True to his word, though, he had gotten Spock a pack of carrots and other miscellaneous vegetables. While he wasn't sure how roasted veggies tasted, he was pretty sure that Spock would prefer gross vegetables to ground up animal parts.

For a while, the two men sat around the fire in a comfortable silence, alternating between eating and roasting something over their massive fire, each mulling over their own thoughts. Jim in particular was especially lost in thought as he stared at the burning embers, not really taking in his surroundings.

"May I inquire as to your thoughts, Jim?" Spock asked, startling Jim, who looked up to meet Spock's questioning gaze.

He shrugged slightly. "It's nothing, really," Jim replied, turning his gaze to stare at the stars to avoid meeting Spock's probing gaze. "Everything looks so much different down here," Jim said, unmasked awe slipping into his voice. Spock glanced at him and turned his eyes back up to the sky. Jim knew that Spock didn't see the same thing he did, and maybe he simply couldn't, but everyone deserved the chance to see the sheer beauty of the night sky. Even logical half-Vulcans. "It seems so much larger, so much more...unattainable." He chuckled softly. "Right now, it seems crazy to think that we'll be back up there in a couple weeks."

Spock looked at him again, the same indecipherable expression on his face. "Do you regret it?" he asked and Jim was surprised by the very human question. It also took Jim a second to realize that Spock was talking about his decision to join Starfleet. At least, that's what he _thought _Spock was asking about.

"No, not for a minute," Jim responded after a burning-marshmallow induced pause. "There are just certain things that I miss."

Spock raised an eyebrow but Jim knew that he had to have some idea as to what he was alluding to. Even though you would think that a Vulcan couldn't get attached to a place, he knew better. Spock had loved Vulcan immensely and it was more than evident in the aftermath of its destruction. Therefore, it was only logical to assume that Jim would feel something for his home planet as well, despite the overwhelmingly bad memories associated with it.

But for Jim, it was really more about perception.

"I guess I just miss feeling small," Jim started uncertainly, not knowing how to describe the feeling. "I get tired of being a part of something sometimes, to be something so big, to _know_ that I can make a difference. I just want to feel small again. There are just some things that people aren't meant to be bigger than, the universe being one of them."

"You believe that you are of a larger size than the universe?" Spock asked, his incredulity trickling into his tone. Jim knew that Spock wouldn't understand. And it was okay, because it didn't really make any sense, not even to Jim.

"Perceptually, yes," Jim said. "It's part of the no-win scenario thing. I don't believe in no-win scenarios, easy as that. But every once in a while, I wish I did."

"That is illogical," Spock said, blowing on his burning carrot, and he seemed to be mentally preparing a list to outline just why it was so illogical. Jim decided he wanted to skip that part.

"It's easier that way. To be able to give up and blame a higher power or the universe or whatever. If there's absolutely nothing within my power to change a situation, then why bother trying?" Jim was on a roll, talking just to fill the oppressive silence that would undoubtedly fall between the two men if he stopped. "But I don't think that way. And therefore, in a sense, I am bigger than the universe because it can't control me. I have the power to change anything in my life. There's no such thing as fate or destiny. People are responsible for their own outcomes, and if they chose to accept something as inevitable, then so be it."

"Essentially, a person is to be blamed for their own hardships?" Spock asked, raising an eyebrow in contemplation. "Then, according to your own thoughts, you believe that Vulcan people could have changed their own fate? That my mother could have survived if she had not accepted her inevitable fate?" For a second, Jim was afraid that he'd accidently struck a nerve. But there wasn't an edge behind Spock's words, merely the intensity of someone who was invested in something that had somehow become a serious philosophical debate. Indeed, Spock seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself.

Jim hesitated, not really knowing how Spock had gotten the unseen upper hand in their exchange. "No," he said slowly, "that was out of their control." A lull fell in the conversation as Jim tried to find a loophole in Spock's point. After a second, he decided that there were exceptions to every rule. Not that he was going to tell Spock that, but he was pretty sure that Spock already knew that he had come to that conclusion.

"So it was," Spock agreed after a moment, nodding shortly in Jim's direction. Jim decided to take it as approval. "Indeed," Spock continued, "I find it fascinating that you could hold such beliefs in spite of your father's own sacrifice. One could easily argue that the incident with the Kelvin was a no-win scenario."

Jim winced slightly, but he knew that Spock hadn't meant it maliciously even as he was reminded of their first meeting. It was a mere fact, and, if Jim hadn't been James T. Kirk, he would have readily agreed. However, Jim knew better. "But he did win," Jim argued. Spock raised his eyebrow and, had the topic not taken an even more serious turn, Jim might have laughed at the predictability of his friend. "Not in the obvious sense," he conceded, "but he saved 800 lives that day." Jim shrugged, almost smiling as Christopher Pike's words replayed through his mind for possibly the millionth time. He returned his gaze to the dwindling fire. "If that's not a victory, I don't know what is."

"Fascinating," Spock murmured, intently staring at Jim, who was starting to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny. "It is an unusual manner to view such an event. Most merely focus on the grief that comes from death. Yet you are capable of seeing the good in such an event, despite the loss of a loved one."

"I didn't know my dad, Spock," Jim reminded him gently, though he knew that he didn't need the reminder. "You can't love someone you never knew." Jim shook his head slightly. No, that wasn't entirely true. "I respect him, though," he amended, "and a part of me even misses him."

Although he wasn't sure how it was possible to miss someone who existed merely as a memory. He supposed it was probably the idea of him. After all, George Kirk _was_ a great man, undoubtedly. He probably would have been a kickass dad, as well.

Jim sighed as he was reminded of the alternate reality yet again. Well, he supposed that _this_ was the alternate reality, but he didn't see how it mattered. _That _Jim Kirk had known his father and had probably had a great relationship with him that involved pep talks, love and support, and good old fashioned games of catch. George Kirk had to have been a great dad, no 'probably' about it.

But Jim couldn't focus on these thoughts as he knew that they were really rather useless and more self-destructive than anything. But he would give almost anything to un-ask that question of Spock Prime: _"Did I know my father?". _

But regrets were for people who had too much time. And Jim would rather live in the present than the past, simply because the now held a promise of tomorrow while yesterday held only ghosts.

"Jim?" Spock asked, the sound of his voice sending a small tendril of _something_ down Jim's spine. He looked up at the Vulcan to see him staring at him with something not unlike concern etched in his eyes. "I apologize, I did not mean to pry into your personal affairs, Jim."

Another shiver went through Jim. And suddenly he understood why it was so important for Spock to say his name. It sounded right coming from him, in his deep, monotonous tones. His name made sense coming from Spock's mouth in a way that it never had coming from anyone else. It was comforting.

_"You know someone loves you when the way they say your name sounds different. It leaves a smile on your face and you just know that it's safe in their mouth." _

Jim blinked. He had never expected his mom's love advice to come in handy.

Wait...love?

Jim stumbled over this revelation in the form of a Freudian slip. He looked up at his first officer, almost expecting to see him in a totally different light. But he didn't. Spock still sat stiffly, his posture bordering on rigid. He still wore an emotionless mask, and his damned eyebrow was still raised. His skin was still tinged green and his ears were still pointed. Nothing had changed.

Except now the posture wasn't just rigid - it was a relaxed rigid that only existed when he was around Jim. And his mask wasn't so much emotionless because Jim could see the burning emotions attempting to hide in his dark eyes. And, for the first time, there was a certain allure to the pointed ears and green tinged skin.

But nothing had changed. Not really. So Jim ignored it, hoping that it was the sleep and sex deprivation talking. Instead, he waved away Spock's apology, mumbling something about how he himself was shamelessly nosy and that he had nothing to be sorry for. _Except for being so damn hot_.

Wait...what? So damn hot?

Jim almost groaned. But that would have been acknowledging that there was a problem, and Jim was doing his best to ignore the last few seconds of mental discovery. So instead, he smiled at Spock.

"So, next campfire tradition," Jim said, rubbing his hands together briefly to attempt to warm them up. The fire, by now, was next to useless. He supposed he could try to get it going again, but that would take energy and they would probably go to bed soon anyway. Again, he found the need to slap himself in the face and groan undeniable. "We can sing campfire songs!"

Spock's face maintained it's emotionless facade, but Jim would have bet good money that he saw worry and amusement flash across his face. Oh yes. Spock had many good reasons to be worried.

"_Michael row the boat ashore hallelujah_," Jim started singing at the top of his tone deaf lungs, "_Michael row the boat ashore hallelujah_."

He paused, realizing that he didn't know the rest of the song. His mom used to sing it when she cleaned around the house, but since she didn't know past the first verse, Jim had never had the opportunity to pick up the rest of the song. Which, judging by the pained expression on Spock's eyebrow, was probably a good thing.

However, Spock's next words weren't a sarcastic criticism or even outright musical rejection. And if Jim would admit to such things, he would have said that his jaw nearly fell to the floor in astonishment. But Jim didn't react that way to anything, so he was merely mildly surprised when Spock continued the song.

"_Jordan's river is chilly and cold hallelujah. Chills the body but not the soul hallelujah_."

It was odd, because the words shouldn't have sounded right coming from the half-Vulcan's mouth, as emotional as they were. But they did, and in light of recent events, they might have even made sense. But how could Spock have possibly known the song? And, even more baffling, where the hell did he learn how to sing?

"My mother would sing the song," Spock explained after a moment, glancing down to stare at his hands. "I believe that it was comforting for her, as she was far from her home planet. It was as if she had a piece of her former life in the form of a song." Spock paused and turned his gaze back to Jim's. "I hadn't understood then, but now I think I can comprehend the sentiment."

Silence fell between the two men, the weight of a now dead planet hanging between them, building a sturdy wall. Strong, but not impenetrable. And Jim reached through it, gently resting his hand on the other man's knee in a comforting gesture.

_"Chills the body, but not the soul_..." Jim repeated softly, hoping to get the message through Spock's thick, stubborn skull. Spock looked up to meet his eyes, and he was relieved to see a new spark of life, a determination of sorts.

Spock would be alright. It took a lot to kill a person's spirit. It took even more to destroy their soul. And though it might take a while and it might be a struggle, Spock would be alright.

And, in the name of progress (because if Spock could do it, so could Jim), Jim did something that he hadn't done since he was a small child.

He stopped lying to himself.

Captain James T. Kirk admitted that he was completely and irrevocably infatuated with First Officer Spock.

A.N.  
Thanks for reading guys. So I was reading up on the Prime Directive and it doesn't make much sense. I mean it does, but it kinda just made me mad. I can't see it doing any good. If anything, it just leads to the destruction and repression of certain civilizations. If you have the ability to help someone who isn't as well off as you, shouldn't you? Although, I agree with non-interference in terms of culture and such. And giving Starfleet officials the power to annihilate a civilization because it poses a threat to the Federation? That's just a giving them the power of genocide. Ridiculous. Am I reading this wrong?

Haha, anyway, sorry about the rant. It just doesn't paint Starfleet in a good light, which made me sadder than it should have. Although, I noticed that Jim Kirk likes going against the Prime Directive often. It made me chuckle. Thanks for reading and for the reviews and support. You guys are awesome.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

This must be what it feels like to be bitch slapped by the universe.

In the face.

At first Jim is stunned by his newest revelation. He can't think of anyone else that he could possibly be more incompatible with. After all, Spock is logical, calm, and levelheaded - all the things that Jim has never been. Nor has he ever actively sought anyone like this.

But then he thinks, maybe it's not so crazy after all. Spock's a fairly good looking guy. And, more importantly, he is a challenge. And Jim Kirk never backs down from a challenge, no matter how absurd it might be. Or how dangerous.

Jim thinks that an infatuation with Spock is both absurd and dangerous. Which makes it an ideal conquest for him.

But it's more than just a conquest, although it's a first for Jim. He doesn't understand the feeling and he definitely doesn't want to label it, but he knows that, whatever this is, it's more than just a one night stand. It's more than just a fling.

And it's terrifying.

But so obvious. And Jim wonders why it has taken him so long to figure out this...affection, or whatever it is. Because when he looks at Spock now, he can see it clearly, as if there's a neon sign hovering over his head flashing _SPOCK IS DAMN SEXY_.

The way his face kind of glows in certain angles. The angles and curves of his face. The eyes that express more passion and emotion than he has ever seen on a human face. The adorable, pointed ears that flush green when embarrassed or nervous.

And Jim chuckles at his own thoughts

One could easily argue that there are very few things about the Vulcan that are adorable. Jim doesn't care. It's adorable.

And he wonders what the hell he did to the universe to deserve this. There's possibly nothing worse than falling for someone who will probably never return said feelings. And it's even worse that Jim knows that Spock could snap him like a twig if he ever tried something.

And maybe it's not possible to beat the universe after all. You might win once or twice, but then the universe throws something completely inappropriate and unexpected at you to make up for the loss. And Jim can't help but think that the universe is trying to punish him for being awesome.

But if this is punishment, then sign him up for hell.

Damn it all anyway.

~*00*~

Jim woke up feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. There was something comforting about the open space and fresh air. While Jim loved his job and definitely wouldn't trade life on the Enterprise for anything, there were still things about Earth that he missed. Endless black space was nice, but it couldn't really compare to solid dirt underneath one's feet and wide blue sky above one's head.

Jim smiled and took in a deep breath of fresh air, slowly pulling himself to his feet, looking around their surroundings. In true desert form, there really wasn't much to look at. There was red dirt, pointy cacti, and hills that could pass for small mountains. All in all, not much to look at, but Jim figured that Spock would probably feel right at home.

A flash of guilt flashed through Jim as he was reminded of Vulcan and he shot a glance over in Spock's direction. He was huddled under a mound of blankets next to the long dead fire. Jim smirked. If he found this weather to be too cold for comfort, Jim couldn't even begin to imagine what the temperatures must have been like on Vulcan.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair tiredly. Shoving the thoughts of Spock's home planet away, he began to fold his blankets and tidy around their campsite. It was too early to start dwelling on such melancholy thoughts. Which, Jim reflected, was probably selfish, but he simply didn't want to start the day off wrong. Part of the point of this vacation was getting their thoughts off of the Narada disaster. Since they had almost immediately jumped into their five year mission, they hadn't really had a chance to just relax and come to terms with the travesty.

Judging by the fact that Spock was still sleeping, Jim felt it safe to say that Spock really needed the rest. He was well aware of the fact that Vulcans didn't need as much sleep as humans did, so the fact that Spock had slept in longer than Jim said more for Spock's condition than any tricorder could.

It was funny how time passed by so quickly when things were going horribly awry. It seemed like an eternity ago since the Organia incident, even if Spock had really just reached a full recovery a couple days ago. Despite this, Jim could still remember the surge of terror that he felt when he had realized that Spock had been missing. It was a haunting feeling that he couldn't really comprehend. He just knew that it left him in a cold sweat on certain nights and left a tremor or fear tracing down his spine if he thought about it for too long. And if Jim still felt this way, he can't even begin to know what Spock must still be going through. He hoped that Spock would do alright with mediation, but he had a feeling that it wouldn't be that simple. There was no doubt that Spock would have several scars, apart from the obvious ones on his chest and face.

Jim watched him for a moment, smiling as he shifted around in his sleep slightly. The top of his dark head was visible from where Jim was sitting, which only caused his smile to grow larger. It was strange to Jim, feeling such a strong affection for someone. But it was undeniable at the same time. Never before had he ever felt a need to go over and run his fingers through someone's hair without any expectations for reciprocation of any kind. Although, he was pretty positive that touching Spock like that would pretty much be a death sentence. Regardless, the desire was still there.

But no matter what he felt, Jim knew that it would be best to ignore any feelings that were more than just friendly. Not only would any advances probably be unwelcome, but Jim was a captain now. He didn't have the luxury to think with his sex drive anymore. He had a feeling that if he messed up their current relationship by trying to push him into an unwanted sexual relationship, things would be nearly impossible on the bridge. Not to mention, he knew enough about Vulcans to know that they probably weren't too keen on casual sex. Which meant he would be submitting to some kind of long term thing. It made Jim want to groan at the thought. He _really_ wasn't a long term kinda guy.

If Jim had been feeling particularly psychological that morning, he would have attributed his loathing of relationships to his mother and her numerous flings. It was hard to put much faith in long term relationships when he spent his entire childhood watching them fail miserably.

But Jim wasn't really psychological. So he decided to blame it on the fact that he just liked sex. A lot. From a lot of different people. Sex wasn't a big deal to him. It was meant to be shared and enjoyed...and then move on. No strings attached. And, as of right now, he wasn't sure he was capable of giving all that up. It would be a challenge.

But then, Jim never turned down a challenge.

He was torn from his musings when his empty stomach made itself known with a loud growl. Jim glanced down at it in wonderment, as if confused by the sound, before standing up to go over to the car. He wished that he'd had the foresight to pack food, but that would have involved planning. And James T. Kirk doesn't plan. And so far, it has worked for him.

He opened the door to the car and quickly fished the map out of the side compartment. He sat on the hood of the car, opening the map and quickly scanning for a nearby city or town. After a moment, he determined that there was a small town that wasn't too far away from their current location. He figured they could go get breakfast, wander around, and then find something exciting to do. Hopefully.

"Jim?" Spock's voice carried softly over from his nest of blankets. Jim looked up towards the sound before standing up and quickly making his way over, map still in hand.

Spock was sitting up, looking around blearily. Jim smiled and turned back to the map quickly. It would be absolutely horrible for Spock to realize that Jim's feelings weren't nearly as platonic as he thought they were. But it wasn't Jim's fault, not really.

For the first time, Jim considered the idea that Spock might not really be a morning person and was just a really good actor. His usually immaculate hair was sticking up in various places. His usually alert dark eyes were clouded with a sleepy haze as he blinked rapidly, an attempt to wake himself up. Indeed, it was the most ruffled that he had ever seen the other man and it was incredibly endearing, in a way. And adorable.

Jim almost groaned. He was not off to a good start if he was going to ignore his growing...whatever it was.

"Did you sleep alright?" Jim asked, focusing on folding the map, partly to avoid Spock's gaze and partly because the map refused to fold properly. He knew that he should have just used a datapad. But at the time, it hadn't seemed authentic enough.

"Indeed," Spock replied, stretching out his arms and gracefully coming to his feet. "It was quite sufficient."

Jim nodded and started to help Spock fold his blankets. He almost laughed when he counted three. There was no way it had been that cold last night. Then again, he hadn't grown up in sauna either.

"So I found a place for us to eat breakfast," Jim said. "There's a small town about thirty minutes away from here."

"That sounds acceptable," Spock gave his assent. After they had folded the blankets, Jim wandered back over to the car to give Spock some privacy to get ready. Moments later, Spock joined him, blankets in hand, looking as if he'd stayed the night in a four star hotel and taken a long shower. Jim was pretty sure that he looked like he'd slept on the ground in middle of nowhere Arizona and he briefly wondered how Spock always managed to look so put together.

In no time at all, they had their few belongings packed into their car and were on the road again. Jim relished of the feeling of being behind the wheel of the car, enjoying the freedom that came with it. He rolled down his window and smiled as the wind hit his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a disgruntled look settle briefly onto Spock's face. He laughed as Spock brought his hand to his hair, trying, unsuccessfully, to flatten it. Spock shot him a glare, a real, honest-to-god glare, which only made Jim laugh harder. However, deciding to appease his friend, he rolled the window back up. He tried to ignore the ridiculous flutter in his stomach when Spock shot him a grateful look.

They arrived in town twenty minutes later, due to Jim's inability to obey simple speed limits. He had been driven mostly by his growing hunger and, once he had parked, it took all of his willpower to not drag Spock into the restaurant. If asked, he would've sworn that Spock was being slow on purpose.

Once they entered, he found, with relief, that it was mostly empty. It appeared that this was a dying town, with only a few locals and passing traffic to cater to. Regardless, Jim was grateful for their existence as they were seated.

"Can I get you guys something to drink?" a server asked, blinking her green eyes at Jim in a manner that was clearly meant to be seductive. Jim did his best to ignore it as he ordered a glass of water. Spock repeated the sentiment and she walked off. Jim noticed that there seemed to be an exaggerated swing to her hips and had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

Normally, he wouldn't have minded the overt attention. But couldn't she see that he was with someone? Okay...well, he wasn't _with_ someone, but he was clearly with someone...No, that didn't make any sense either. Either way, Jim wasn't interested. Call it his new preference in company or a change of heart in general, he simply didn't care for her in the slightest.

The server was back a few minutes later, still trying to molest him with her eyes. He pointedly looked away as she asked for their order. Jim ordered eggs and sausage and toast and Spock, after being assured that it was completely vegetarian, ordered waffles.

"You've never had waffles before?" Jim asked in surprise as the server went away (still swaying like a damned pendulum).

Spock shook his head. "Waffles originated from Earth," Spock explained, playing with the corner of his napkin. Jim hid a smile. He had noticed that Spock was rather fidgety when he was nervous or getting into a possibly more personal area of conversation. It wasn't overt or anything, but Jim was getting close enough to Spock to notice the little things. Like the subtle green hue that occasionally crept onto his face, making him look so many different kinds of kissable.

Whoa there. That was drastically inappropriate.

Jim quickly turned his focus back to the conversation. "Your mom never made waffles for you, though?" he asked, but he already knew what the answer was.

Again, Spock shook his head. "My father insisted that I be raised as a full Vulcan. This included the omission of almost anything that related to anything from my mother's home." Spock looked up and met Jim's eyes. Jim almost gasped and turned his gaze away. Spock's eyes were positively smoldering. "I was always given the choice about which path I could choose." Something in his tone belied his words and even his previous comment contradicted the latter.

He had been given the choice, maybe, but it was clear which path his father had wanted him to choose. And Jim couldn't think of a single little boy, human or not, who didn't want to do everything in their power to please their father. Spock's path had been chosen for him, all pretense aside.

Jim felt an alarming amount of sympathy and anger building up in his heart. He couldn't imagine what it would like to be forced to chose between two radically different lifestyles at such a young age. Or what it would be like to be forced to ignore part of who he was. Jim couldn't help but regret that it was simply unacceptable for Spock to be both human and Vulcan. One or the other, no compromise, no real choice.

The conversation was cut short when the server brought their food over to them. Jim didn't even have to glance at her this time to know that she was still attempting to seduce him. Instead, he smiled into his plate, ready to dig in. A hand on his shoulder made him jump.

"If you need anything," she said softly, and squeezed his shoulder gently, "just call."

Jim gaped after her as she walked away. Some people just couldn't take a damn hint. He turned back to his plate, shaking his head in disbelief. He was so caught up in his own frustration that he missed the blatant glare that Spock sent after the young woman.

"So, I was thinking," Jim said around a bite of toast, "we can either go hiking or wander around town or go for a drive today." He swallowed roughly. "Whatever you wanna do."

"I have no preference for our activities today," Spock replied. It was what Jim had expected to hear, but not what he wanted.

"Do you ever have definitive preferences?" Jim asked, trying not to sound confrontational. He really, genuinely was curious. He knew that it wasn't the Vulcan way to be anything more than indifferent, but there had to be some things that Spock was either vehemently for or against.

Spock merely raised his eyebrow and cocked his head to the side, gazing intently at Jim. For a second, he thought that he might have accidentally offended the half-Vulcan, but there didn't seem to be any hurt or malice hiding behind his eyes, so he figured he was just confused.

"I prefer peace to war," Spock finally said, still looking at Jim with his indecipherable gaze. "I prefer calm to chaos...and I believe I prefer your presence to Doctor McCoy's."

Spock's tone had made a careful transition from serious to downright mischievous. Well, as far as Vulcans went, anyway. Jim outright burst out laughing. Who would have ever guessed that Spock had a sense of humor?

"I can't say I blame you," Jim said as his laughter slowly died away. "I _am_ the epitome of excellence, after all."

A small smile seemed to be tugging at the corner of Spock's mouth. "Indeed," he replied dryly, but Jim decided to count it as a personal victory that he didn't deny it. However, he did have to ignore the flutter in his stomach at the idea that Spock might not actually dislike hanging out with him.

"So which do you prefer?" he pressed after a moment. "Hiking, wandering, or driving?"

Silence fell between the two men, and Jim could tell that Spock was probably calculating the safety factor of each idea.

"I believe that I would not be adverse to hiking," Spock said after a moment and Jim smiled a wide smile. Another victory!

"Hiking it is then," he said, suddenly feeling eager to get out and about. He hadn't been hiking since he was a pretty young kid. As long as they were careful about snakes and other poisonous creatures, they should be good. But they would need to stop and find water bottles or something or risk dying of dehydration. Well, Jim would die of dehydration. Vulcans were probably immune to such trivial things.

"Is there anything else I can get for you guys?" the server was back, a small smile playing at her lips. Jim was just about at the end of his rope. There were only so many ways being ignored repeatedly could be taken.

"I find it fascinating," Spock said, unexpectedly. Jim turned to look at him as he continued, "Despite an explicit lack of interest, women seem to be unable to resist your, as you would say, charm."

The young woman glanced at him, a hurt look creeping into her eyes before slammed their bill onto the table and turned abruptly on her heel. There was no sway to her hips this time. Jim looked back at Spock, torn between thanking him and lecturing him for being so cruel. He decided that a simple smile would do.

"Come on," Jim said, leaving their payment on the table. Spock stood moments later and the two of them quickly made their way out of the restaurant. Jim thought that he might have heard sobs coming from the kitchen area, but decided to ignore it. It wasn't his fault that she couldn't take a hint.

"There should be some pretty good hiking locations back where we stayed last night," Jim said as they made their way back to their vehicle.

"Oh my," a breathy voice behind him made him stop. "You're James Kirk, aren't you?" She turned to look at Spock with a critical eye. "And you're Commander Spock."

He turned and was met with the sight of a squat elderly woman who seemed to be brimming with excitement. "It is you!" she shrieked and gestured for some people who were standing a ways behind her. Immediately, Jim and Spock found themselves surrounded by people who would be best labeled as adoring fans.

Jim was surprised at the sudden attention and found that he didn't really like fame so much after all. He was even more surprised when Spock all but shrunk against him, a failed attempt to get away from the several fawning hands that kept reaching for them.

Jim awkwardly pat the elderly woman's hand that she had placed on his biceps and he tried to pull away from her.

"Is it true you saved Earth?"

"What was it like?"

"It's so sad, about Vulcan."

"Are you single?"

Jim tried to tune out the barrage of questions that were being flung their way as he gently began to press Spock backwards. He glanced at his friend and was alarmed to see that his eyes were snapped close, as if blocking out their visual appearance would make them go away.

_If I can't see you, you can't see me_.

"Sorry, but we have to run," Jim tried continuing his slow step backwards. He didn't know how they had been surrounded by this group of ten crazy women, but he knew that he wouldn't miss them once they were gone. Seriously, he hadn't even thought that this many people lived in this small town.

A small groan of disappointment erupted from the jittery women and Jim took this opportunity to grab Spock's arm and pull him to the car. He half-expected the women to follow them, and was relieved when they merely stood there, watching them leave with awestruck looks of adoration on their faces.

He glanced up at Spock and was relieved to see that he had his eyes open again and seemed to be regaining his composure. He was less pleased to see panic still etched into his dark eyes, though it did seem to be ebbing slowly.

"Well that was...insane," Jim said, opening the door for Spock. To his surprise, he didn't protest. He just shot an unreadable look at Jim before sitting down. Jim slammed the door shut after him and quickly got into the driver's seat.

He glanced at Spock to see him looking intently at him, but a hint of amusement was starting to make itself known in his eyes again.

Spock cracked a small smile after a moment. "And I have a talent for stating the obvious?"

A.N.  
Okay, the Prime Directive doesn't make me as mad anymore. Thanks for explaining it to those who explained it.

Marshmallows have gelatin in them and gelatin is made with crushed up animal parts. As a fellow vegetarian, I couldn't let Spock eat them in good conscience.

Thanks for the reviews guys. Sorry that the updates keep on taking longer. I keep getting stuck and then panicking and then having a flash of brilliance and then forgetting. Not to mention, somewhere along the way, I fell in love with McCoy and want him to randomly appear, even if it goes against my current story line. It's horrible, but not. Anyway, thanks for the reviews! You're all awesome.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Maybe we should get masks," Jim said as they sped away from the small town. "That way, if we ever have to deal with civilization again, we can be all kinds of inconspicious."

Spock merely shot him a glance before returning his gaze out the window. Jim deflated a little and wildly grasped around for another topic. Spock seemed to be more shaken up by their encounter with the hysterical women than was really warranted. But then, Jim wasn't a touch telepath, so he wasn't really sure what kind of unwanted information Spock had gleaned from their adoring fans.

Then again, maybe it wasn't the touch telepathy at all. Spock could just have a general aversion to touch. Heck, even some humans didn't like being around other people. Just because not everyone needed a constant physical connection with people didn't mean that something was inherently wrong with him. But Jim found that he couldn't relate to it at all. He liked touching others - resting his hand on someone's shoulder, a friendly slap on the arm, throwing an arm around someone in a friendly embrace. It was natural for Jim to show physical affection to those around him and it was sometimes hard to remember that not everyone appreciated it.

Jim sighed and decided to let Spock sit in peace. So it was a surprise to him when Spock decided to start talking.

"I have never been outside of San Francisco," he said quietly, staring out the window with an avid interest. Jim glanced at him before returning his gaze to the road.

"What?" he exclaimed. Spock had been on Earth for at least eight years, probably more. It was crazy that he hadn't taken the time to explore his new surroundings. Not that Jim really blamed him, seeing as he hadn't really traveled much outside of Iowa, but Jim had traveled at least a little bit. But not enough to actually count.

"I was always occupied with the Academy and never had the time to travel outside of the city," Spock explained, tearing his eyes away from the scenery to look at Jim. "Also, my physiology is not so well adjusted to the cooler temperatures that is common in most regions on this planet."

Oh. Those were pretty good reasons, actually. He hadn't realized how different the temperature was for Spock, although he probably should have guessed based off of Spock's higher body temperature. Jim almost laughed at himself. Thinking logically did have its moments. Not that he would ever let Spock know that.

"I haven't really been outside of Iowa or San Francisco, either," Jim admitted, glancing at Spock again. A small smile tugged at his lips and he quickly refocused his attention to the road. He didn't need Spock realizing how much enjoyment he gained from looking at his ears. Especially in certain lights when they kinda glowed...

Damn. He really needed to focus on not focusing on Spock.

A comfortable silence fell between the two men. Although they had only been on their shore leave for a day, Jim could already tell that this was going to be a relaxing vacation. Or, at least as relaxing as James T. Kirk could manage.

After driving a few more miles, Jim began to look for places to pull over so they could start their hiking excursion. He found a place where there were a few other cars parked, which meant that there were probably some decent trails around. Plus, it was always good to have other people around when you were as accident prone as Jim was. Even if it meant putting up with a few adoring fans. Although, Jim had a feeling that those old ladies were the exception, not the rule. Or at least he could hope so.

He quickly parked and got out of the car, Spock following, shortly behind him. He stretched out and looked around. "Can't you just feel the excitement?" Jim asked, a laugh hiding behind his voice.

Spock merely raised his eyebrow and followed Jim as he headed over to a map that gave details about the various trails. After a quick analyzation, Jim pointed off to their right, indicating that the two mile hike/walk would be best. Spock nodded his approval and they both set off on their exploration.

As they walked, they talked. Jim found that he was pleasantly surprised at how easily conversation flowed between the two of them. Not that it was ever really forced, but they usually talked about the Enterprise and their missions and Starfleet. It was nice to just get to know each other on a more personal level without the onslaught of emotional outpouring.

For example, Jim learned that Spock's favorite color was red ("A favorite color is illogical, Jim."). He liked the smell of cucumbers ("My mother's soap smelled of cucumber."). His favorite book was a collection of Grimm's Fairy Tales ("It was a gift for my seventh birthday from my mother."). Each new thing that he learned was invigorating for Jim, and it felt as if he was being given a little gift each time he discovered something new.

And Jim felt comforted by the thought that Spock was getting to know him as well, although Jim was much better at just offering up information. Getting Spock to admit to preferences of any kind was like pulling teeth, but worse. Everything was illogical or immature. But it didn't matter. Jim was just happy to be with Spock. And he didn't even care about how corny that sounded.

Before long, they had finished their first walk without any incident and had decided that it would be fun to try another trail. This trail took them by a few interesting plants that Spock decided that he wanted to analyze. Jim rolled his eyes, but didn't really mind stopping. It just gave him a chance to openly stare at his first officer without getting caught. Plus, the sight of him bending over was a big bonus. Jim smirked

"Well, look who it is," a voice behind them said. "It's Jimmy." Jim froze and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. His blood ran cold while simultaneously burning in a stifling rage. That voice...it was far too familiar. Like from a reoccurring nightmare that he couldn't wake up from, haunting him. A voice from the past, long forgotten or repressed, Jim didn't know, instantly brought back to his memories to resume some form of torment.

Jim turned around slowly, vaguely aware that Spock was looking at him intently with a raised eyebrow. Sure enough, he was met with the sight of a tall man with features that were shockingly similar to his own. He looked up and met the eyes of a stranger he once knew. A stranger he once loved. A stranger who had betrayed him, abandoned him, left him behind.

"Sam," Jim said, his tone flat.

"Small world, ain't it?" Sam Kirk responded, a hint of sarcasm coloring his voice.

"Too small," Jim muttered, never taking his eyes off of his brother as he walked closer to him and Spock. Determinedly, Jim stood his ground, even when Sam threatened to encroach on his personal space. He had never expected to see his brother again, not after he had walked away from him, leaving him alone with a stepfather who hated him and a mother who saw ghosts when he smiled.

_"Don't_ _go," an eleven year old boy said, sitting on his brother's bed, watching him pack all of his worldly possessions into a ratty backpack. _

_Instead, his brother ignored him, shoving an unfolded shirt in before glancing around one last time and zipping up the backpack. He slung it over his shoulder and walked out the door, not looking back._

_Jim stood up and raced after him, trailing him down the stairs and out the front door, muttering promises that he knew he would never be able to keep. But if it got Sam to stop and stay, he would try his best. He'd be a better brother. He'd stop stealing his action figures. He'd try not to make Frank so mad. He'd do all the chores. He'd even stop sneaking into his room when he was out. _

_But Sam didn't stay. And Jim stopped caring. _

"So, Starfleet, huh?" Sam asked, his voice dripping with condescension. Apparently he wasn't into catching up or small talk. "What happened? Lose a bet?"

Jim shook his head wearily. "What do you mean," he asked, knowing damn well where this was going.

Sam simply laughed, a harsh cruel sound and took to circling around Jim, like a vulture. Jim held his ground once again, fighting back the urge to flinch when he casually brought his arm around Jim's shoulder in a faux show of affection. "We hated Starfleet," he hissed, bringing his face close to Jim's. "We were against everything it stood for, everything about it." He paused, glaring at Jim, his grip tightening on his shoulder. "What happened?"

"Things changed," Jim said cryptically, shrugging off Sam's arm. "_I _changed."

Sam laughed again, the same laugh that couldn't really be called that. "_You_ changed?" he scoffed, disbelieving. "What makes you so special?" he sneered. "You're still the same kid you always were." Jim didn't say anything, staring resolutely forward, refusing to give any sign that his brother's words had any affect on him. Sam, apparently, didn't that much, and suddenly he was back in Jim's face. "Who _are_ you, anyway?"

Jim hesitated. It had been years since he had felt so insecure about himself, years since he had needed to face his past in more than his dreams. And once again, he was that scared, sad little boy, begging his mom not to leave again, pleading with his brother to stay.

"He is James T. Kirk," Spock spoke up from behind him, hands tucked neatly behind his back, "Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise."

As if that explained everything. And maybe it did. Maybe it was enough. Either way, Jim looked back at his first officer and smiled slightly, reassured by the calming presence that he found in the stoic half-Vulcan. A small flutter went down Jim's spine. Knowing that he had Spock's support meant more to him than it probably should, but Jim couldn't bring himself to care.

Sam looked surprised momentarily from Spock's input, but quickly shook it off. "As if that means anything," he scoffed.

"It means everything," Jim said, his voice suddenly full of authority. It had been all the reminder that he needed. He wasn't that little boy, not anymore. He had moved past that, had become stronger than the memory that constantly threatened to bring him down. He was a captain now, the youngest Starfleet had ever seen, and had accomplished more than most people could in three lifetimes. Everyone has a past. There was no need to let what once happened hurt what was happening now.

Sam took a step back, looking Jim up and down appraisingly. "Maybe you have changed," he muttered, but it didn't sound like a compliment. Jim bit back a series of insults that sprang to his tongue and instead shook his head and took a step closer to Spock, his way of backing out of an awkward situation.

Spock took the cue and said, "Captain, we have a previous engagement that we will be late to if we do not take our leave now."

If Jim hadn't been playing along, he would have stared at his first officer in surprise. Spock never lied. He was half-Vulcan. He was supposed to be incapable of lying. Then again, Spock Prime had technically lied (_implied_ his ass).

"Oh yeah," Jim said, nodding, clapping him on the shoulder before he remembered that it made Spock uncomfortable. "Well, I hate to run, but we really should be going."

Sam merely nodded, stilling scrutinizing him, before turning around and continuing down the path. Jim watched him for a moment before turning and walking in the opposite direction without any warning. It only took a moment for Spock to catch up, and Jim could tell that Spock was just bursting with unasked questions.

For once, Jim found that he was grateful that Spock wasn't one to pry into other people's business. However, Jim also knew that he was fairly nosy and he probably owed Spock some type of explanation.

"That was my brother, Sam," Jim said shortly, not slowing his pace as he talked. "He left when I was eleven."

Spock nodded in acknowledgment, and let the silence between them grow, clearly expecting Jim to say more. But he didn't press and Jim didn't offer any more.

A.N.  
Sorry that this is short and that it took forever. I hit a massive writers block and this was the worst month ever. Ugh. It was horrible. Thanks for reading though. I would greatly appreciate suggestions at this point in time or any advice. Or criticism. Yeah. Thanks.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

It wasn't hard for Jim to find out information about his brother. After running into him in the middle of nowhere Arizona, he had decided that he'd pretty much had enough with nature and they had quickly made their way back to the car and towards the next town. He felt lucky that Spock wasn't much of a pry and had let silence remain between the two of them for the duration of the car ride. Once they reached the town, Williams, they had checked into a small bed and breakfast and settled in.

In that time, Jim learned through simple research, that his brother had been living in Arizona for the past five years, never staying in one place for more than a year. It had been sheer bad luck that Sam was currently living in the town that they had eaten breakfast in that morning. And small towns have big ears and news travels fast. Apparently the arrival of two Starfleet heroes was big enough news that it didn't take long for Sam Kirk to learn of their presence. Jim wasn't the only brilliant person in his family. Sam had probably discovered what they'd been driving and had sought them out. Albeit, Jim had not been able to discover a motivation yet. He highly doubted that his older brother had hunted them down for the sake of insulting him. Or, at least he hoped that wasn't his only motivation.

Jim leaned back in his seat and sighed, looking around the small room, his gaze falling on Spock. He was reading from a datapadd, probably catching up on some of his experiments that were going on back on the Enterprise. Jim smiled and took a moment to analyze the curves and angles of his hands. He quickly shook it off though, determined to hide anything that was less than platonic from his friend.

If Jim thought about it for a second, he felt really bad for cutting into Spock's vacation time. He couldn't imagine that Spock really just wanted to sit around in a hotel room while Jim sat around feeling bad for himself. To be fair, though, there was no way that Jim could have foreseen the blast from his past.

He sighed and put his PADD away. Dwelling on it wouldn't do any good. He just needed to forget about it and attempt to enjoy the remainder of his vacation with Spock. They were just an hour away from the Grand Canyon. Spock would probably enjoy the sights around there. Either that, or he would think that it was illogical to stand around and stare at a massive hole in the ground, no matter how breathtaking.

"Hey Spock," he called out, deciding that asking was the best course of action, "how do you feel about canyons?"

Spock didn't even bother to look up from his PADD. "They are of little consequence. They occasionally provide scientific discoveries, but otherwise are unappealing."

Okay. So the Grand Canyon was out.

It was probably better that way. With his current luck, Jim probably would've fallen to his untimely death. Unfortunately, there wasn't really anything else to do in this part of Arizona.

He sighed and got up, pacing around the room. He glared around the small room, as if it was it's fault that his day had gone to shit. He hated it all. The ugly lamps, the lumpy pillows, the disgusting bedspreads, the horrifying carpet. If he walked into the bathroom, he'd probably hate the tiles and the shower too.

No, Jim thought as he sank down onto one of the beds. It wasn't the room's fault that he ran into his wayward brother in the last place he'd expected to see him, although that didn't make the bedspread any less revolting. Jim wrinkled his nose in disgust and stood up again. Sam had probably been on the lookout for him ever since he joined Starfleet and finally had his chance to say what had been simmering on his mind for years. Although why he thought Jim would ever be in Arizona was beyond Jim. No one likes Arizona. No one.

A sudden noise filled the room, startling Jim. He glanced around and was surprised when the comm console in the room blinked, alerting him to an incoming message. Jim stood up to answer the call, wondering who would be contacting him here. Maybe it was Bones. Yeah, he was probably being driven insane by his ex-wife and needed a reprieve.

So he was surprised when his mother's face filled the screen, an irritated expression on her face.

"Mom?" Jim asked, not able to mask the shock in his voice. He hadn't spoken to his mother since he had joined Starfleet. She hadn't agreed with his decision to go to the Academy, and while she hadn't tried to stop him, she had made her opinion known through the silent treatment. And as Jim reflected on this, he couldn't help but wonder whether it possible to remain civil with your parents once you've grown up. Then again, Spock seemed to get along with his father and he obviously loved his mother. Maybe it was just Jim.

"Jim," she responded, her voice stern, but with an undertone of concern. "Your brother told me you were on shore leave."

No 'how are you?' or 'I'm glad you saved the planet'. Of course not. That would be too easy. However, even more disconcerting was where she had gotten her information. Sam still talked to their mom? Jim felt a strange stab of betrayal that he hadn't thought actually possible. Sam had abandoned them, left without a word. Jim had enrolled in Starfleet. Clearly Sam's was the bigger crime. Yet, when it came down to it, Jim had been the one to be shunned, not Sam. Because that made _perfect _sense.

"Yeah," Jim said vaguely. From the corner of his eye, he could see Spock looking up from his PADD to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "We had to stop for some minor repairs and updates."

She nodded and fixed him with a sharp glare and, with no preamble, asked, "Why haven't you visited me yet?"

He paused, not expecting his mother to want to see him. Yeah, he and his mom used to have a great relationship before the resentment and hurt set in, but they hadn't been civil for years. And while he wasn't beyond trying to work things out, he wasn't quite in the mood for a heart-to-heart with his mom.

"I'm kinda with someone," Jim said, knowing that it was a weak excuse. He was always bringing people home to the point that it was mostly expected of him. He could hope that she would understand and let it go, though.

No such luck.

"Bring her with you. I'll see you sometime tomorrow," she said and before Jim could protest, before he could explain that it was his first officer, she cut the communication.

Silence fell hard and tense in the small room. Jim continued to stare at the blank screen, frustration coursing through his blood. What was this? Throw random family members at Jim day? This was ridiculous. His mom had no right to make such demands from him. She hadn't had any right to him since he was twelve. Why start now?

"Are you hungry?" Jim finally asked, turning away from the comm. Spock was staring at him, a question in his eyes. Jim turned away from it, not wanting to answer it just yet. He just wanted to get out of the room, out of this state, and, preferably, off this planet.

"I am not opposed to sustenance at this current time," he replied, standing up and putting his PADD aside. Jim felt the urge to bang his head against the wall. It was never just 'yes, I'm hungry' with Spock. Never.

"Awesome," Jim muttered, and stalked out the door, not checking to make sure that Spock was following. As he walked to the car, he took some deep breaths, an attempt to dispel his bad mood. He refused to take out his anger on Spock. Again. Inwardly, he sighed. It wasn't his fault that Spock was such an easy target.

"So where do you want to eat?" Jim asked as they settled into the car, forcing a pleasant tone and a half smile. Spock glanced at him and then away quickly.

"Vulcans have no food preference as the sole purpose of food is to nourish. As long as it adheres to my moral diet, I have no qualms over where we eat."

"Right," Jim mumbled, starting the car and quickly pulling out of the parking lot. It took longer than he thought it would to find food, but finally settled on a retro-diner. A quickly glance at the menu assured him that there were vegetarian options and they took their seats. Jim looked around and smiled at all the posters that were hanging on the wall and the music that was coming from a live musician in the corner.

Turning his attention to the menu, he quickly decided that a burger and milkshake was the only way to go, although he lamented the fact that Bones wasn't here to completely disapprove of his choice. With that massive decision out of the way, he sat in silence, watching Spock examine the menu intently. For someone with no food preference, he seemed to have a hard time making up his mind. Jim decided to keep this observation to himself, not wanting to sound like an asshole.

"Are you guys ready to order?" the waiter asked, looking at the two of them expectantly. Jim glanced at Spock, who nodded slightly.

"Yeah, I'd like a burger and milkshake," Jim said, handing the menu to the waiter. Spock ordered the vegetarian lasagne plate and the waiter took his menu as well, turning to leave.

"Is everything alright, Captain?" Spock asked suddenly after a few moments of sitting in silence. Jim looked up, more surprised at being addressed as 'captain' than the fact that Spock was the one to break the silence.

"It's Jim, Spock," he reminded him, impatiently. "We're on vacation, we're friends, it's Jim."

"Very well. Jim. Are you well?"

Jim shrugged. "Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed, I guess," he said honestly. There was no point in lying to Spock. He almost always knew when he was lying. "How do you feel about a trip to bumfuck Iowa?"

Wait...what? That wasn't supposed to happen. Jim hadn't even consciously decided to comply with his mom's wishes, let alone decide to invite Spock to come along. A trip to his hometown had the very makings of disaster. There were a lot of things that he had left behind for a reason. Things that he wasn't proud of, that he didn't want anyone to know about. Not only that, but _he _didn't want to go to Iowa, so why in the world would Spock want to go?

But the quiet part in his mind that he liked to ignore pointed out that it might be nice to fix things with his mom. It might be nice to have someone back home, worrying about him. It might be nice to have someone to send transmissions to detailing his latest adventure. And if that meant reconciling with his mom, then he should really consider reconciling with her.

Jim looked up at Spock, torn between looking at him in a pleading fashion and retracting the offer.

"I would not want to intrude upon your time with your mother," Spock replied stiffly after a tense moment, glancing away from Jim's puppy dog eyes.

Jim waved his hand, dismissing Spock's concerns. "You heard my mom," he replied, "you're more than invited."

Spock seemed to hesitate, and damn it if that wasn't the most adorable thing Jim had seen all day.

No. No, Spock was not adorable. Puppies were adorable. Kittens had the potential to be adorable when they weren't gnawing on your knuckles. Vulcans with enough strength to strangle humans without even trying couldn't be adorable. Ever. It went against their very nature.

Still...there was something about the pointy ears-

No.

"And I would not be imposing upon you or your mother?" Spock pressed.

"Not at all," Jim reassured him. "I'll probably be more of an imposition than you ever could be. Besides that," he continued, a little bit more hesitantly, "I've kinda been enjoying this vacation time with you."

If a Vulcan could look shocked or pleased, then that would be the expression that just lit up Spock's face. Instead, it brightened his eyes and Jim knew that he had won this battle. Sure, going home to face his mom would be hard, but everything seemed more bearable with an amazingly attractive Vulcan at his side. Or some other equally sappy sentiment.

"If you are certain..." the half-Vulcan trailed off, as if he wasn't even aware that he had been speaking. Jim quickly decided to banish the term 'adorable' from his vocabulary as it seemed to keep reappearing and causing quite a few problems.

"Beyond certain," Jim confirmed and smiled when their meals finally arrived.

They spent most of their meal in quiet, but Jim could see that something was troubling his friend. In fact, he had seemed even quieter than usual since their encounter with Sam.

"What's on your mind, Spock?" Jim asked, wondering if the straightforward method would work.

"I am curious about your interaction with you brother," Spock admitted, meeting Jim's eyes, a sudden clash of ice blue and warm brown. At Jim's hesitation, he hastened to excuse the topic, "You do not wish to discuss your relationship."

"No, it's okay," Jim said, feeling a sudden urge to explain things. He hadn't spoken about this with anyone, except Bones once. But he had been drunk, and he wasn't sure if that really counted. "It's just...it's hard to explain."

Spock looked at him patiently, clearly willing to wait while Jim gathered his thoughts. Jim smiled slightly at him, and was struck by a sudden desire to reach out and hold his hand. He restrained himself, knowing that it was wildly inappropriate and would probably end up with him as the victim of the Vulcan nerve pinch. Again.

"You know when you're young and you kinda just expect certain people to be there always?" Jim began, not actually expecting Spock to relate to him. So he was surprised when he nodded shortly. Jim continued, "Sam was that person for me. He was my older brother who stayed with me, even when Mom was off planet with some Starfleet business or whatever. He was my protector, even when I insisted that I didn't need one." Jim paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts and attempting to compose himself. He could already feel his anger, which had calmed earlier, start to resurface. "And then he left one day. Just out of the blue, decided that it wasn't worth it and left."

"Hence your perpetual anger," Spock confirmed, looking at him so intently that Jim had to look away.

"Not at first," he confessed. "But emotions have a funny way of transforming over time. What started out as hurt became resentment and then turned into blinding anger." He shrugged and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I guess when it comes to my brother, I'm still that scared, hurt little boy, waiting for his big brother to come back home and fight off the monsters that actually left bruises."

Because the monsters in Jim Kirk's life had never hid in the closet or under the bed. They lived two bedrooms away and drank too much. But he had confessed enough this evening. Some things were better left unsaid and forgotten. Plus, Spock was intelligent enough to understand that train of thought. Judging by the tightening at the corner of his eyes, Spock knew good and well what Jim was implying.

But he didn't press the matter, and Jim was more than happy to let the conversation die its natural death.

However, it seemed that they were both fed up with conversation by the time they got back to their hotel room. Jim fell face first on his bed and groaned.

"These beds are disgusting," he moaned, his voice muffled by the bedspread. Spock looked at his own bed and nodded his agreement.

"It would appear that these beds have not seen cleaning product in an estimated four months."

Jim chuckled and sat up. "That's disgusting," he repeated and stood up, stretching out his taut muscles. "Wanna play a game of chess before we crash for the night?"

Spock looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "I do not intend to crash ever, and certainly not tonight."

"Go to sleep, Spock. Crashing is equivalent to sleeping."

Spock's eyebrow continued its hike to his hairline, but he didn't protest outside of a soft, "That is illogical."

Jim took that as consent for one quick game of chess. "We should probably leave pretty early if we want to get there anytime tomorrow," he said as he set up the board. Spock nodded and sat down across from him.

"That is agreeable," he said.

Jim laughed as he moved his pawn to form his infamous 'pawn wall'. The one that drove Spock crazy because it hindered ninety percent of good moves. Although Spock said it differently. Something about moves being neither good or bad, just logical or really illogical. Jim's moves were almost always the latter.

"I don't know if agreeable is the right word for it," Jim murmured. He had never been a morning person and doubted that he ever would be. Jim valued his sleep more than he valued oxygen.

"Check."

"Already?" Jim glanced over the board, shocked. Sure enough, Spock's queen had cornered his king, and the only way to save it would be to sacrifice his own queen. Which would pretty much be chess suicide. He sighed and gave up his queen. Sure enough, three moves later, Spock was the declared victor.

"Whatever," Jim muttered as he put the game away. "It's a stupid game anyway."

A.N.

Thanks for reading guys! I'm sorry that I'm seriously taking forever with these updates. School is starting again so I don't promise that it'll get any better. But I still value your input and critiques and whatever else you might have to say. Thanks for the support.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Jim couldn't imagine why he ever thought that road trips were fun. Being stuck in a small, cramped vehicle for hours at a time was pretty much torture. No, that wasn't entirely true. Jim had been tortured before, and this was far worse.

After waking up at four in the morning, Spock and Jim had quickly packed up their few belongings and taken off. And after driving for eight straight hours (not obeying the speed limit, mind you), they were still only about halfway there. Jim was getting so tired of the drive that he was about ready to give up, abandon the car and find a shuttle back to San Francisco.

"I'm hungry," he finally announced. The two of them had been driving in near silence, mostly because being awake before the sun had automatically put Jim in a foul mood.

"I suggest we stop for food in the next town," Spock said, who had been staring out the window for almost the entire duration of the car ride. Jim was pretty sure that Spock just didn't want him to know that he was taking a nap.

The sneaky bastard.

"That, Mr. Spock, is a damn good idea," Jim said. "How far is the next town from here?"

Spock looked down at his datapadd and paused, probably calculating the distance so to give a precise answer. "Thirty-four minutes and sixteen seconds if we continue at this speed."

Which sound like encouragement to speed up.

As it was, it only took them twenty-five minutes to reach the next town, which was so small that Jim wasn't even sure it had a name. He pulled into the parking for a small café and quickly got out of the car. Never in his entire life had he been so grateful to just be able to walk around. Okay, that wasn't entirely true. There was that one time during the Academy when he'd been so sick that Bones had forbidden him from even thinking about getting out of bed for a week. But that hadn't been self-inflicted, so it was different.

"I hope they have potato salad," Jim mumbled as they waited to be seated. "Good potato salad, not the fake stuff."

Spock raised his eyebrow, which Jim decided was the equivalent of a laugh. "I am sure the food will be more than adequate."

"But I don't want just _adequate_, I want super, fantastically delicious!"

Spock just stared at him for a moment, but before he could respond, the waitress came up and told them to follow her to their seats.

"You know," Jim muttered as he opened his menu, "we eat a lot."

Spock looked up at him from his own menu, his eyebrow raised again. "Eating is necessary for all humanoids. It ensures survival. Therefore, eating regularly is logical."

Jim rolled his eyes. "You know what I meant," he said as he decided on potato salad (although he would have to make sure that the quality was up to par before ordering it by asking the waitress) and a sandwich. Spock just continued looking at him with his raised eyebrow. "You know if you keep doing that, it's gonna get stuck that way," he teased, and laughed when the eyebrow was simply raised higher.

"Illogical," Spock responded, turning his gaze back to his menu. "It is a biological impossibility."

But Jim just laughed and shook his head. "Not impossible," he argued in good humor. "Implausible, sure, but not impossible."

"A clause to your no-win scenario guide?" Spock inquired, a sparkle in his eyes that gave away that he was teasing Jim.

"Why not?" he laughed. There conversation was cut off as the waitress came up to take their order.

"How is your potato salad?" Jim asked, looking at the flustered waitress intently.

"It's good?" she responded slowly, sounding uncertain as to why he was asking. Jim didn't think that it sound overly encouraging, but decided that harassing the poor girl over potato salad was really unnecessary. Spock placed his order and the girl scurried away, as if afraid that she would be assaulted with useless questions again. Jim chuckled as he watched her leave.

"You have an unusual fixation with potato salad," Spock observed. Jim turned back to face him and was momentarily struck with how fantastic he looked with the light from the sun shining in on him, around him. He had to fight back the urge to reach out his hand and run it gently over the pointed tip of his ear, to caress his cheek, to lean forward and press his lips to Spock's soft lips...

No, no, no, that was _totally_ inappropriate! He needed to focus on something else before he did something he would regret. What were they talking about? Oh, yeah, potato salad!

"My mom used to make really fantastic potato salad when I was a kid," Jim explained, looking at the silverware in front of him instead of at Spock. If he wasn't capable of controlling his inappropriate thoughts, then he would just have to refrain from giving his mind the opportunity to wander. "It was perfect, the way potato salad should be." He chuckled slightly, a sound that was tinged with bitterness and resentment. "I guess I just have high standards when it comes to some things."

Spock nodded, but seemed to be thinking about something and was slightly distracted. Jim looked at him and was about to ask what he was thinking about (because how often did he see Spock lost in thought?) when the waitress brought their food. Jim smiled at the waitress, who still seemed skittish around him.

The potato salad ended up being okay. Not super amazing, but it definitely wasn't inedible. Still, he was a little disappointed. One day, he would find the perfect potato salad and all would be right with the world. Until then, mediocre was kind of alright.

The two men ate quickly, knowing that they were on a strict travel schedule. After paying the bill, and leaving the waitress a nice tip for being a little bit difficult, they headed back to the car. Jim jumped up and down a couple of times before sliding into the driver's seat. He knew it would be a long time before he would be able to stretch his limbs out again. Spock, similarly, seemed to be preparing his body for hours trapped in a car.

And then they were on the road again.

"It seems like you and your mother used to be on friendly terms," Spock said after they had been driving for fifteen minutes. Jim looked over at him sharply, not expecting their pleasant silence to be broken with questions that Jim really would rather ignore. But if there was anyone that he trusted as much as Bones, it was definitely Spock. And some part of Jim thought that meant that he deserved to know.

"We were," Jim said, "when I was little, anyway." He paused, not really knowing where to begin. It was a long story with complicated tangents.

_Twelve year old Jim woke up to find the house empty, an eerie silence pervading the corners of the house. He got up and shivered as the cool air touched his skin. Grabbing a sweatshirt, he slipped it on over his head before making his way to the kitchen._

_He knew that no one would be home. It'd been a few months since Sam had left and his mom was going on an away mission for Starfleet. Again. Frank was probably dropping her off. He smiled at the thought of not having to put up with the step-dad for a few hours and began to rummage around the kitchen to find something to eat. It was then that he found the note. _

_"Hey, Jim. Sorry, I don't think I'm coming home this time. You should let Frank know." _

And she hadn't come home. Not for another seven years. She'd left him alone with Frank without a word to either of them. And if Frank had been bad before, he became exceptionally cruel. Until he left, too, anyway. He wasn't about to stick around and take care of someone else's brat kid.

"She left one day," he said softly, staring intently at the road, not daring to even glance at Spock. "She left me alone with him until he got a clue and realized she wasn't coming back."

"But she did?" Spock asked softly. Jim could feel his gaze burning into the side of his face, but he still couldn't bring himself to look at him. He didn't know if he could handle the pity that he would undoubtedly see shining out of his eyes.

"Eventually," he answered. "To be fair," he amended after a moment, "she did her best to support me, even if she wasn't there. She did make sure that I was still alive and everything and she sent money once a month."

He finally looked over at Spock, preparing himself for Spock's reaction. What he hadn't expected was the anger that burned through his eyes. And that anger, on his behalf, made his heart melt into a seemingly useless pool of goo. It really wasn't fair that Spock could reduce him to useless goo without even trying.

Another seven hours later, they finally reached Riverside, Iowa. Jim drove through the town slowly, taking in the sight of familiar stores and even some familiar faces. As he took it all in, he smiled grimly at his memories. Bill's General Store and the first time he had shoplifted. He'd been fifteen. The bar off of Fifth Street was where he'd gotten into his first brawl. The park by the school was where he'd gotten his first kiss.

He smiled, but did his best to ignore the feeling of nostalgia. It felt more like coming home than it had any right to, and Jim discovered that he might have been more homesick than he could have even imagined. He sighed at the revelation and picked up his speed so he could get out of town faster. Spock gave him a sharp look, but said nothing. Jim was grateful for that. They were both tired and Jim wasn't sure of how tight a grasp he had on his temper and he wasn't in the mood for more questions.

"We're almost there," he said softly, taking in the fields of corn that were lightly illuminated by the full moon. As he drove, he looked up at the sky and was in awe of the bright stars that lit up the sky. It would always amaze him at how big the sky seemed in Iowa. Sure, it was the same sky in San Francisco, but it didn't seem quite so expansive with tall buildings littering the skyline.

Spock nodded and continued to stare out the window, soaking in images of Jim's childhood home. There wasn't really much to see, but Jim felt something like warm joy settle into the pit of his stomach at Spock's interest.

"You see that quarry over there?" Jim asked suddenly, pointing off to the left. Spock turned to look in the direction that Jim was pointing and raised his eyebrow.

"Indeed."

"I drove a car off the edge when I was eleven." If he was asked, Jim wouldn't be able to say why he had decided to tell Spock this story. It wasn't really important, and it hadn't even been a defining moment in young Jim's life. It didn't take long for Jim to regret opening up though when he noticed confusion and pity flash through Spock's eyes.

"That is most illogical," he said, turning to look back out his own window. "What was the reason behind such destructive behavior?"

Jim glanced at him, and then turned back to road, weighing his options. He finally responded, "I thought it'd be fun."

Spock threw a sharp look at him, but Jim ignored it. They were at his mother's house anyway. They didn't have time for this conversation. He pulled into the driveway and parked the car. Both men sat, staring out the front window in silence, waiting for some unknown signal.

"I guess we should go in," Jim said after a moment of indecision, wanting nothing more than to turn the car around and leave, go somewhere, anywhere, that wasn't right here, right now. He cringed at how uncertain he sounded, so he opened his door with as much authority as he could manage.

And found himself falling to the ground.

"Jim?" Spock asked as he strode around the car to make sure that the young captain was alright. Instead of responding, Jim burst into a raucous laugh, that was more hysteria than humor. Spock paused, as if unsure of what to do when your very intelligent captain and friend suddenly seemed to be delirious.

"I'm alright, Spock," Jim finally said, trying to get his laughter under control. He shook his head and attempted to regain some kind of internal balance. Apparently sitting for long hours while driving didn't agree with him. He began to push himself up and Spock quickly grabbed for his elbow, an attempt at steadying him. Jim felt the warmth of Spock's hand wrap around his arm and he leaned into it, appreciating this brief moment of contact before Spock would let go and maintain their personal space policy, as per usual.

Jim sighed and straightened his shirt and brushed off his pants. Glancing up at the front door, he felt the strong urge to just get back in the car and drive away, to never come back. There was nothing here for him. No chance at reconciliation, no chance for forgiveness, not even the opportunity to start over. And Jim found that he wanted none of these things. And the sooner he let whoever was inside know that, he could leave and resume the existence that he had created from himself out of nothing but a dare.

"Come on," he said, sounding weary even to himself. He led the way up the steps to the front door and knocked. He almost smiled at how old-fashioned his mother was, but he pushed back whatever amusement he might be able to derive from his memories.

The door opened just a crack a moment later, revealing a woman in her mid fifties with blonde hair and a tired face. She looked at him uncertainly for a moment before she pulled the door open completely, a smile that didn't reach her eyes crossing her face. It only lasted a moment, though, and Jim found that he was grateful that she wasn't really trying to make things better.

"Jim," she breathed, devouring him with her eyes, taking in the changes since he had left for the Academy. Looking for the man that she saw on all the news stations after the Nero incident. "I thought I'd heard something out there."

"Hi, Mom," he said, almost choking on the words. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, neither of them sure of how to proceed. Beside him, Spock shifted slightly, reminding Jim of his presence. "This is my first officer, and friend, Spock."

His mother's eyes darted to the man who stood next to him with the same penetrating stare. Had Spock been a full human, he would have undoubtedly been shifting uncomfortably. Instead, he just stiffened even more and stood straighter than should have been possible.

"Well, come on in," she said, stepping aside to let them in. As they moved to walk past her, she asked, "Have you already eaten dinner?"

"No," Jim responded, looking around, mildly surprised at how little had changed since he'd left all those years ago. "We didn't really have time."

She nodded and then walked off the kitchen, probably with the intent of finding them something to eat. Jim watched her walk away, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders. He turned to say something to Spock to find him standing inside the doorway, looking around the room curiously.

"Feel free to make yourself at home," Jim said, waving his hand around careless as he toed out of his boots and left them by the door. Spock looked at him before taking his suggestion to heart and began to wander around the room, occasionally stopping to get a better look at something or to gently run his long, slender fingers over the surface of some keepsake.

"I was thinking grilled cheese and tomato soup," his mom said, coming back from the kitchen. Jim looked at her and nodded his agreement. Now that they were inside and in better light, he could get a better look at her. Her face was drawn with lines, proof of her age. And her eyes held a tiredness that hadn't been there when he was a child. Or maybe he simply hadn't noticed before.

She gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen, and after making sure that Spock was with him, he walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table where she had set three plates. When they were all seated, she brought the food to the table, gesturing that they should all help themselves.

"So you're the captain of the Enterprise," she said as a conversation starter. Jim looked up, surprised at her bluntness.

"Yeah," he replied, carefully avoiding her gaze. "Youngest in Starfleet history."

He didn't know what made him say it. Maybe part of him was hoping she'd be proud of him. Or maybe he just liked to brag. Either way, he immediately regretted it.

"So I've heard," she said, her eyes boring into his skull. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Jim looked up at that, a hardness settling in his eyes. "Tell you what?" he asked slowly, a suspicious tone appearing in his voice.

She shrugged and flailed a bit, almost helplessly. "I don't know," she confessed. "About your graduation, or your appointment, or how you saved the planet. It's not that hard to send out a call once in a while, Jim."

Jim could feel years of fury building up, boiling hot under his skin, out of control. He took a deep breath to try to gain control over it. "That's rich coming from you, Mom," he snapped, snarling over 'mom'. "Not once have you ever tried to talk to me, not since I was twelve." He paused and took a deep, steadying breath to calm his inner demons. "You have no right to a call, no right to know what I'm doing."

She looked at him, looked like she wanted to argue. But she couldn't, and Jim knew that she couldn't. And God, Jim didn't want to have this conversation the first night back and probably could have gone his entire life without dredging through the nightmares in his memory.

"I'm your mother," she said, glancing away, picking at her sandwich, but there was a hint of anger behind her words. "I have every right to know how you're doing."

Jim let out a laugh, somewhere between a snarl and a sob. "Mother? Is that what you think you are?" he let out another painful laugh. "You're a shit excuse for a mother and this was always a pathetic excuse for a family."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she hissed, this time looking up at him with a fire in her eyes that Jim knew how to handle. Anger he could take. God knows he had enough to match it without even trying.

"You left!" Jim shouted, tired of holding back years of pent up rage for his mother, Sam, Frank...everything. "You just left, no goodbye, no 'I'm sorry'. Nothing. You just left."

His mom stared at him, the fire extinguished with tears that were filling her eyes, tears that only made Jim angrier. No, she didn't get to cry. She didn't get to feel bad. After everything that she had put him through, she had no right to those tears, no right to ask his forgiveness.

"I had to, Jim," she whispered, the tears no streaking down her face. "You don't understand, I couldn't stay. And you were so headstrong, so..."

"So, what?" Jim demanded as she trailed off.

She looked at him intently, and it was _that_ look again. The look that said she wasn't seeing him, Jim Kirk, but rather the ghost of his dead father. The shadow of a man that Jim could only know of through stories that others told him.

"Oh," he whispered, "I get it."

Silence fell between the two of them, both exhausted from the length of the day and the stress of their reunion.

"I'm tired," Jim finally muttered, standing up from the table. Spock stood with him, keeping his eyes carefully averted.

"We'll talk in the morning," Mrs. Kirk whispered, choking on her own tears.

Jim said nothing as he turned to head up the stairs, not caring if Spock followed him. Not caring about much of anything at all.

A.N.  
So not much Spock/Jim interactions in this chapter, but I think the next will be glorious. Sorry about the delay. School's a bitch and living is time consuming. Thanks for reading though! As always, I appreciate comments, feedback, etc. Thanks for sticking with me guys.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Jim was lying in bed, his childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling aimlessly. Not for the first time this evening, he wished he were elsewhere. Anywhere. With Spock. Oh...Spock. Damn.

Inwardly, he cringed. He couldn't believe that he had gotten in a fight with his mother in front of Spock. Oh, that must have been so many different kinds of awkward. He'd have to apologize in the morning and then get the hell out of here. Right now, though, he just wanted to fall asleep and forget that any of this had even happened.

But whoever was suddenly knocking on his door seemed to have other ideas.

"Go away," Jim cried, his voice muffled by the pillow that he had flung over his face, hoping that it would make his surroundings disappear. "I'm asleep."

"Jim?" Spock's voice called out softly, almost tentatively.

Jim sat up instantly, a realization suddenly striking him. He'd been a horrible host, even if it technically wasn't his house to host in. He needed to show Spock the guest room and make sure he didn't need anything. He got up and walked to the door, pulling it open quickly, an apology ready on his lips.

Spock beat him, though. "Are you alright, Jim?"

Jim opened his mouth to respond with his instinct answer 'of course I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?' but nothing came out, leaving him standing in front of Spock, gaping. He hadn't expected Spock to check up on him. Downstairs, he could hear his mom rummaging around in the kitchen. Not wanting to another confrontation to break out if she suddenly decided to come upstairs, Jim stepped aside to let Spock in.

"I should probably show you the guest room and get you sheets and shit," Jim said, ignoring Spock's original question. But he didn't move, standing as if frozen by the door.

"That is unnecessary," Spock said, looking around Jim's room as if looking for clues to his childhood. "Your mother already showed me the room and it was prepared prior to our arrival." He paused for a moment and then took a step closer to Jim, moving slowly as if afraid that he was going to snap or break. "Are you alright?" he repeated carefully.

Jim looked up at him, meeting his eyes briefly before turning away. "Yeah, Spock, I'm fine," he sighed, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. "I guess I'm just tired."

Spock nodded and started to edge his way to the door, taking the hint for what it was. "I will leave you then," he said, hand moving to the doorknob.

"Spock?" Jim called out suddenly, stopping mid-motion. "I'm really sorry," he said, trying to project his sincerity. "I didn't expect," he floundered for a moment, unsure of how to label the 'kitchen incident', "I didn't expect all of that to go down."

For once, Spock didn't even question the human phrase. Instead, he moved away from the door and walked over to stand next to Jim on the bed.

"Apologies are illogical," he replied quietly, which, Jim figured, was Spock's way of saying 'it's alright'.

He smiled at him, one of his first real smiles since they'd ran into his brother yesterday. God, it seemed like an eternity had passed instead of just two days.

"Your mother seems like she is trying," Spock continued after a moment.

Jim turned to look at him, fighting a glare off of his face. "It took her long enough," he all but growled, feeling his anger creep back up. "It doesn't count if she spent the majority of my life giving up on me."

An awkward silence fell between the two men as Jim tried to regain a grip on his temper. He stood up abruptly. "I lied," he confessed as he began pacing around his room. Spock raised his eyebrow, but said nothing, waiting for Jim to continue on his own. "The day after my mom left was the day I drove my dad's car off the edge of the quarry. Not because it was fun and not because I wanted to die, but to see if she cared about me as much as she loved that damn car." He shook his head at the memory. "When Frank told her about it, she didn't once ask if I was alright. It was like I didn't even matter to her," Jim let out a bitter laugh. "It was then that I realized that she hadn't been joking. She wasn't coming home."

"But you still love her." It wasn't a question and Jim found himself at a loss, stopping him in his tracks. It wasn't that he didn't love his mom, but he wasn't sure that he didn't hate her either. But then, hate and love were practically synonymous. One doesn't hate someone that they don't care about. On doesn't hate someone unless they feel like they've been let down or betrayed. You only really hate the people that you love.

"I do," Jim said softly. "But I don't think that's enough."

Spock was silent for a moment before he walked over to where Jim was now leaning against a wall. He opened his mouth, but then paused in a very human gesture, apparently rethinking his line of thought. "I will always regret not informing my mother of how much I loved her," he finally said, meeting Jim's eyes frankly.

Jim had to restrain himself from sighing in irritability. Spock was supposed to be on his side!

"It's different, though," he sighed, throwing up his hands in frustration. "_We're_ different."

Silence fell between the two men and Jim wasn't sure whether it was because he'd just accidentally insulted Spock by bringing up the differences of their species (although he doubted it) or just because Spock liked to brood over everything.

"I believe she has suffered enough," Spock said with a finality that suggested that there wasn't a force in the galaxy that could get him to change his mind.

"How do you figure?" Jim asked half-heartedly, feeling the exhaustion from the day catching up with him.

Spock tilted his head for a moment, merely looking at him before saying, "She has never gotten to know you."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but they warmed Jim's heart in a way that he didn't think was possible. He figured that was the closest thing to "you're awesome" that he would ever hear. And it considerably lightened his current disposition. But he still wasn't completely willing to give up.

"So what, I should just act like nothing happened?" he asked, most of the fight gone from his voice. "Just pretend like it's okay?"

Spock paused for a moment, considering. "You do not have to forget, but you should forgive and learn to move on." Jim looked up at Spock, incredulity showing on his face. It felt weird getting emotional advice from a Vulcan, even if Spock was still half-human. As if reading his line of thought, Spock continued, "It is logical to rid yourself of things that cause you harm. Even if it is not in the way you would prefer."

With that, Spock left Jim to his thoughts.

~*00*~

Jim woke up the next morning internally cursing his biological clock. If he'd been on the Enterprise, he would've been late for his shift. But here in Iowa, on shore leave, 8 am was way too damn early.

Jim groaned as he rolled out of bed, flinching when his feet hit the cold, wooden floor. It'd been so long since he'd had to put up with an Iowa winter. Needless to say, he hadn't missed it. Quietly swearing to himself, he made his way to the shower, trying to get his shivering under control. He turned the water on as hot as it would go and eased himself in, relishing in the burning water as it beat against his skin. After a moment, he turned the water to a cooler setting. If there was one thing he missed on the Enterprise, it was water showers. Sonic showers simply didn't have the same soothing qualities.

Spock was probably already up, Jim figured and decided to speed up his shower, quickly shampooing his hair. He didn't really want to leave Spock alone for an extended period of time, especially not with his mother lurking around. He sighed and turned off the water, grabbing a towel before the shivers could set in again.

He quickly dried off and pulled on some clothes before going on a quest for Spock. However, it wasn't much of a quest, seeing as he found him down in the kitchen where he figured he'd find him.

"Morning, Spock," Jim greeted, stretching his arms above his head and yawning before sitting down at the table. Spock looked up from the datapadd that he was currently reading and nodded his own greeting before looking back down at the PADD.

Jim watched him for a moment before standing up and walking to the replicator to get some toast. With his plate of toast, he sat back down across from Spock again.

"So..." Jim began, trying his hardest to break the awkward silence. "What do you wanna do today?"

Spock looked up again and then set his PADD down, giving Jim his complete attention. "I have no preference," he replied stiffly. Jim forced himself to not roll his eyes. Apparently Spock still desperately wanted Jim to forgive his mother, or at least talk to her. And while Jim had definitely thought about what he had said (it was impossible not to), he still hadn't really gotten that much further than contemplating the ways his mother had hurt him. Sure, Spock meant well, but really, it was none of his goddamned business! This had absolutely nothing to do with Spock.

Nevertheless, he forced a smile and a pleasant tone as he responded, "To be honest, there's not much to do here." He thought about it for a moment and then suggested, "I guess I could show you around town..."

But that also meant seeing people in town who hadn't been so fond of him before he left- and not without good reason. Jim had been a bit of a terror and somewhat of a delinquent. He couldn't imagine that their opinions would change so quickly, no matter what planet he'd helped saved. Still, there was really nothing else to do. He looked up at Spock expectantly, waiting for him to respond. However, Spock merely diverted his gaze, but not before he saw the stark disapproval glaring at him from his dark eyes.

Oh. So Spock was playing _that _game.

Jim stood up and sighed. "I'll be outside," he snapped. "Come find me when you get over yourself."

"I do not understand," Spock's voice halted him at the door, soft and confused. Honestly, humanly confused. "How does one 'get over' oneself? I would not think it to be physically possible."

Jim felt a smile threaten his face and some of his anger started to ebb away. It wasn't Spock's fault. He really seemed to just be caring about his general well being. It was just...Spock couldn't understand. His mother had actually cared, had actually tried to be a decent mother, and had succeeded as well. Jim's mom hadn't been there.

Except, that wasn't entirely true. There had been a time when she _had _been there. And there was a part of Jim that agreed with Spock. He did need to forgive his mom.

Because part of him still was that scared little boy who needed his brother and wanted his mom. And even if he couldn't have his brother, this was a second chance with his mother. After all those years of feeling hurt and unwanted, his mother finally wanted to make amends. And it was a lot to forget, a lot to let go of and leave behind.

But he could still remember the times before she left, the times before Frank came into his life, when she still gave a damn. When she'd make soup when he got sick or hug him when he was sad. Back when her smile could light up a room and her eyes were filled with an undeniable warmth. He could remember her stories, playing games, her singing as she danced around the kitchen, a pot in one hand and a whisk in the other. She had been a good mother, and then things had slowly changed. As Jim grew older, her gaze became more haunted whenever it rested on him. Her smile grew dim and less frequent. And then she stopped singing. Then she met Frank.

And it wasn't Jim's fault that he looked like his father. But then, it wasn't his mother's fault that she missed him.

"It's not important," Jim said, not turning back to look at him. After a moment of indecision, he turned around, keeping his eyes glued to the tile in the kitchen. "You know, I'm nobody's bad memory," Jim said softly, looking up at Spock and meeting his dark eyes frankly. Spock raised his eyebrow and Jim thought he could see some understanding slip into his eyes.

"Of course," Spock murmured, almost looking apologetic for pushing so hard. He paused and then continued, "I apologize for pressuring you into a decision that you are not ready to make."

And damn it all, it sounded like a challenge.

Jim gritted his teeth and sighed loudly. "I thought apologies were illogical." He smiled to show Spock that he was joking. "I'll talk to her, but I don't promise it'll end well."

A noise from the doorway signaled the entrance of his mother and Jim almost groaned when Spock promptly stood up and excused himself, leaving Jim staring intently at the table and his mother frozen in the doorway.

For a moment, Jim was tempted to get up and leave as well, but Spock was right. And part of him really wanted for everything to be okay between them. And if that meant giving her a second chance and letting bygones be bygones, then no one ever said life was fair.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, still staring at the table.

She looked up at him and the ghost of a smile flickered across her face. "I know."

"I didn't mean it," he muttered, looking down, ashamed.

"Yes you did," she chuckled, and Jim looked up, surprise. He hadn't expected to find forgiveness in her after their harsh exchange. Although, to be fair, he had a lot more reason to be angry than she did. She sat down across from him and reached out a hand, as if to grab one of Jim's. She thought better of it and pulled back, but she kept her eyes on him, as if trying to take in all the changes, as if trying to see the paths he had taken to get to this point.

"I know saying 'I'm sorry' doesn't erase all the hurt I've caused you," she said, averting her eyes briefly before continuing, "but I'd say it a million times if it could ease just a fraction of your pain."

And what could Jim say to that. Spock might have been right. His mom did seem to have suffered. And if the suffering for both of them could end here...Jim really would like someone to come home to on shore leave or someone to comm once in a while.

"Why'd you just leave like that?" Jim asked quietly after a moment, the question that had bothering him since he read the note.

His mom hesitated, pondering what she wanted to say. After a minute, she said softly, "My place was always in the stars." It wasn't really an answer, Jim thought, but she continued, "And I wish that it could've been with you. It wasn't even that I didn't love you," she whispered, "or even that I didn't love you and the stars equally. They were just...easier."

And that, Jim could understand. The stars_ were_ easier. They had a way of not letting people down, of doing exactly what was expected of them. They never pretended to be something they weren't, never asked to much of you. And maybe Jim was looking too much into it, but he could still see where his mom was coming from.

And if he was honest with himself, he probably would have made the same choice his mom had if he had been placed in that situation.

"I'm still mad at you," he finally said.

"I'd be surprised if you weren't."

"But I don't think I hate you."

She looked up, surprised. "You have every right to."

Jim chuckled, surprising himself, "I have for a while. But it takes a lot of energy."

She nodded and stood up, walking over to the replicator. Jim watched her move around the kitchen. Yes, he was still angry, but he hadn't been lying. He didn't hate her anymore. It was hard to resist the call of the unknown, the call of the great black. And maybe she should have tried harder, but he couldn't fault her for being a Kirk.

"Hey Jim," she called from her place by the replicator. He looked up at her to find her looking at him with a tender expression that he hadn't seen since before Frank. She paused and then whispered, "I love you."

He felt warmth spreading through his body at her words and a small smile graced his lips as his mom went back to getting her food. He couldn't say it back, not yet, because he wasn't sure he meant it.

But he would one day.

A.N.

So I know a lot of you wanted Spock to get in Mrs. Kirk's face, but I didn't feel like he'd respond that way so soon after his own mother's death. I've noticed from experience that people with deceased parents tend to not understand family feuds. So I'm sorry if this reaction disappoints anyone and you'll get some of Spock's pov in the next chapter. Anyway, thanks for reading, it means a lot to me guys!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

This is what it's like to be Spock.

Every second of every day.

Contrary to popular belief, he can feel. He just controls it. But it's getting harder and harder. Whatever control he may have had is slipping. He feels like he's out of control. And he doesn't know what to do.

But it's not emotions in general that bothers him, it's what he's feeling. He could say that he doesn't know this feeling, that he doesn't understand what it means. But it would be a lie.

It is illogical to lie. Especially to yourself.

And, for once, he wishes the misconceptions about Vulcans were true. He wishes that he is emotionless, that his feelings didn't exist so that they couldn't betray him.

But wishing for anything is illogical. He learned this the hard way.

Wishing didn't make him wholly Vulcan. Wishing didn't stop the others from teasing him. Wishing didn't save his mother...

And wishing wouldn't stop these feelings for Jim. However illogical they are.

However, he isn't half-Vulcan for nothing. If Vulcans are good at anything, it is repression.

And if that didn't work, then it would be only logical to remove himself from such a situation.

And he understands logic, even if, for the first time in his life, he doesn't wish to follow it.

And he is confused.

~*00*~

Even pseudo-making up with his mother didn't staying in the house any easier. It was like waking up in a bad nightmare, waiting for Frank to come in and yell about forgetting to take the trash out, or how he needed him to get things from town, or how much of a disappointment he was.

And even leaving the house didn't make things better. There was nothing around! Just endless miles of corn fields. Jim could've gone the rest of his life never seeing a corn field and would not have felt bad. He was going stir crazy and he needed to get out. Now. Even if he felt kind of bad for leaving.

His mother stood in the doorway, watching him packing up the few belongings that he had used over the past few days. She said nothing, just watching him as he ran around the room, making certain that he had everything. Even when he turned and grabbed the bag to leave, she held her tongue, just stood aside so he could leave the room.

She followed him as he bounded downstairs to where Spock was waiting for him. Jim grinned at him briefly before gesturing to the door. Spock picked up his small bag and walked out the door, Jim and his mother following closely behind him. They put their bags in the car, and Spock got in the passenger's seat, leaving Jim alone to say goodbye to Winona.

They stood in awkward silence for a moment before she suddenly stood up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. Jim froze, suddenly reminded of an older, easier time when she used to kiss him all the time. He was reminded that he missed her.

"You've got quite a first officer there," she said clearing her throat and smiling, making her seem years younger. Jim glanced over to where Spock was waiting for him and then back to his mom. Her smile widened, and then she winked before turning away to walk back into the house. "Be safe," she called over her shoulder.

"I'll keep in touch," Jim called out impulsively. She paused at the top of the stairs and turned around, the previous sadness back.

"I look forward to it," she whispered and then walked into the house, closing the door without looking back.

Jim stood there, just staring at his childhood home, wondering if he would ever be back again. He imagined that he probably would. But for now, he had a first officer waiting and a vacation to attend to.

He turned away from the house and got in the driver's side, and within moments, they were back on the road, heading back into town.

"Jim?" Spock asked after a few minutes of silence, an uncharacteristic concern coloring his tone.

"We should probably stop in town and get some food or something," Jim replied, completely ignoring the unspoken question. Spock didn't respond, so Jim took it as an agreement. Within ten minutes, they pulled into the town and Jim parked at one of the diners. Unless things had changed drastically in his departure, this was one of the best places to eat for miles. Which wasn't really saying that much, since miles really just encompassed corn fields.

They walked into the diner, a comfortable silence between the two men. Jim looked around and was pleased when he noticed that it hadn't changed a bit over the past few years. It was still a replica of the 1950's diners with posters hanging on the walls and some form of rock and roll playing from an ancient jukebox. Jim smiled. This had been one of his favorite places to hang out with his friends. He couldn't count how many first dates he'd had in the booth at the back of the restaurant.

"Well look who it is," a harsh voice drawled from behind him. "If it isn't Jim Kirk, savior of the damned, fucking earth."

Jim and Spock both turned to face the man, and Jim felt his stomach drop when he recognized. It was Jack, the owner of the hardware store across town. They had never gotten along, even before Jim had exhibited juvenile delinquent tendencies. Jack was a man who hated children, especially little boys. They were loud and messy and always had sticky fingers. Or something like that. Jim had forgotten most of the rant over the years. All he knew was that he was crazy.

"Hello," he replied politely, backing away. It wouldn't look good if the Captain of the Enterprise got into a brawl in bumfuck middle of nowhere, Iowa. And he didn't care how responsible he had become, part of him had always dreamed about punching Jack in the face.

"You've got a lot of nerve, coming back 'round here," he hissed, grabbing Jim's arm with an iron grip.

Jim opened his mouth to respond, but was beaten to the punch when he heard a shrill voice from behind him.

"How dare you!" a woman hissed. Jack's grip loosened and Jim pulled his arm away and turned to face the intruder.

However, when he saw who it was, he almost wished that Jack had just beat up on him instead. It was Sally, one of his first serious girlfriends before he had learned how not to be a jerk. He had broken her heart into so many pieces that she had spent the better part of his last few years in Riverside tormenting him. And he had to admit that she had every right to her hatred. If he'd walked in on her with his brother , he would've been pissed off too.

"He saves the planet and you're still bitching and moaning over past grievances that happened years ago?" she yelled, grabbing his arm and tugging him toward the door. "He's a hero!"

"More like a waste of space," Jack muttered, venom tainting his words, but he allowed Sally to shove him out of the room anyway. .She turned back at the door to look at Jim.

"Sorry," she whispered and attempted some shadow of a smile before following Jack. Jim sighed. Some wounds just never healed.

Beside him, Spock was standing stiffly, waiting for Jim to react. Jim was well aware that all the patrons in the restaurant had gone quiet and were watching him as well, waiting to see what the 'savior of the earth' was going to do. Well, Jim wasn't about to give them a show. He turned on his heel and walked out of the restaurant, making his way back to the car. He'd completely lost any semblance of an appetite anyway. Spock followed him, watching him intently. Any other time, Jim would've been flattered. Instead, he just wanted to hide from his gaze. _How un-captainly, _he thought dryly.

Once they were back on the road, Spock managed to find his voice again. "Are you alright Jim?"

Jim shrugged, carefully schooling his face into a mask. "Waste of space. No good. Disappointment," a harsh laugh forced its way from his throat. It sounded unnatural and cold even to Jim's ears. "They've said it so much they've lost their meaning. They're just words now."

Spock nodded in understanding. Jim glanced at him and for a moment, Spock's face twisted up, as if he were struggling with something. His face cleared just as quickly though and he just nodded again. "Waste of space. Freak. Illogical." Spock turned to look at Jim frankly. "It's illogical to address false claims from those who only desire to wound."

Jim smiled slightly, understanding what his friend was giving him. "It's illogical to make such claims in the first place."

"Perhaps," he responded. "A starfleet captain once told me 'Everyone needs their scapegoat'."

Jim smiled, brightly. "Sounds like a smart guy to me."

"Indeed."

And silence descended upon the two men, not quite as comfortable as it once was.

~*00*~

This is what it's like to be Jim Kirk.

To realize that he's never going to be good enough.

To realize that not even save the planet is enough...

He's still that fuck-up kid from Iowa.

He's not enough.

And who is he, really? Who does he think he is? Some kid who got lucky. Some guy with more enthusiasm than common sense.

But he knows that's not true. He knows he's a genius. But he also knows what people say about him. That he's only a pretty face, a good lay, always up for a good time. He probably slept his way to the top and will probably crash and burn when there's no one around to save his ass.

And maybe, once upon a time, that was true. But one can't possibly watch one planet be destroyed and help narrowly save another and not be changed at some subconscious level.

Not only that, but he's terrified of messing things up. Terrified of losing the Enterprise. Terrified of losing crew.

Terrified of losing Spock.

The more time he spends with him, the more he likes him, the more he's afraid that Spock won't like him in return. Afraid that he will learn something from his past that he cannot forgive. Or worse- will not forgive.

And the fact that he cares at all terrifies him more than anything else.

~*00*~

For a few miles, silence stretched between Jim and Spock, both lost in their own thoughts. Jim was so lost in thought that he found it hard to concentrate on anything else. It wasn't until Spock pointed out that they were going in the wrong direction that he tuned back into his surroundings.

"Goddammit," he muttered and promptly pulled an impromptu and illegal u-turn.

The silence only lasted a couple minutes this time, before Spock broke into it again.

"What was that man back in town referring to?" Spock asked, breaking Jim out of his thoughts.

"Oh, you know," Jim responded carelessly, trying to downplay the incident. "A grudge he just can't let go."

"Concerning what?" he persisted.

Jim suppressed a growl of annoyance. Deep down, part of him was thrilled that Spock seemed comfortable enough around him to press further into his personal affairs. However, he mostly felt irritated by Spock's desire to know everything. It was the damn scientist in him.

Jim sighed. Building bridges... "Nothing too bad..."

_Don't tell him, _his common sense screamed.

"It was a decade a go."

_He won't understand_.

"Back when I was just this angry kid."

_Stop while you can_.

Jim stopped and sighed again. "I haven't always been a good person...or even a decent person."

An eyebrow raised.

_You're such a fuck-up._

"Some could say I was a delinquent."

_You couldn't keep a good thing if it was chained to you._

"And I may have stolen from him."

_He'll leave you now._

They all leave eventually.

Silence.

"Why?" Spock asked after a moment. Damn that scientist need to know everything.

"Why not?" Jim countered, shrugging. "I liked the thrill. It was late. I was bored. It was a breezy Saturday night. No friends, nothing to do. The guy's a prick anyway. Does it matter?"

Silence.

"No," Spock muttered, "I don't suppose it does."

Silence.

It grated on Jim's every last nerve. "Where to next?" he asked, forcing an enthusiasm he hadn't felt since they had run into his brother.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to return to San Francisco," he suggested tersely, turning his gaze to stare out the window.

Jim felt an overwhelming sense of despair overcome him. So that was it. Vacation over. All in all, it had been one failure after another. Jim would never be able to convince Spock to go anywhere with him ever again. But he could try. "Are you sure you don't want to take in some of the sights first? We still have a few days."

He was vaguely aware of the fact that he was begging, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He just wanted to leave Spock with one good impression, just one positive thing to leave him with.

_Don't regret coming with me..._

More damn silence. Hesitance.

"Did you have anywhere in mind?"

_No._

"Yeah! Of course," Jim exclaimed, relief coursing through him.

"Where?"

_No idea_.

"It's a surprise!"

Spock sent Jim a measured glance before inclining his head in agreement. Jim smiled brightly and glanced at Spock out of the corner of his eye. He was looking out the window again, lost in his own thoughts. A flutter went through Jim's heart. He ignored it.

He returned his focus to the road and the first chance he got, he took a sharp right turn that would take them to who knows where. He didn't need to tell Spock that he really had no idea where they were going. It was a surprise.

And maybe, for once, he wouldn't fuck this one up.

A/N

Sorry that I took a five month break. Real life hit in big way called cancer. My mom was diagnosed on New Years. So, I'm sorry that it took so long and that this is shorter than most of my chapters tend to be, but I'm trying to get a grip on the characters again. So I apologize if they seem incredibly out of character. So does anyone have any ideas for where they can go next? Tell me in a review if you have a brilliant idea! Thanks for reading guys and sticking with my lousy updating skills.


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